


Of All My Demon Spirits, I Need You the Most

by knittycat99, nubianamy



Series: The Donutverse [25]
Category: Glee
Genre: Closeted Character, Dancing and Singing, Dave is Scared of Cockroaches, Dom/sub, Episode: s01e20 Theatricality, Finn in a Shower Curtain, Glee Names the Baby, M/M, Moving In Together, Multi, Non-Sexual Slavery, Polyamory, Secret Relationship, Singing Finn's Favorite Songs, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-11
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-03-04 01:44:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 52,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2904722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knittycat99/pseuds/knittycat99, https://archiveofourown.org/users/nubianamy/pseuds/nubianamy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Kurt accidentally walks in on a conversation between Matt Rutherford and Dave Karofsky, he finds himself at odds between keeping a promise and telling his own boyfriend the truth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published as chapters 43-48 of The Fingers of Your Fire. 
> 
> Set just before, during and after episode 1.20 Theatricality. This story follows The Bitter Pill I Swallow and parallels There's an Awful Lot of Breathing Room.
> 
> You can listen to the 8track playlist for Fingers of Your Fire [here](http://8tracks.com/nubianamy/the-fingers-of-your-fire) (part of the enormous FoYF one is still [on YouTube here](http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLc72s_nGT2yT62f9-u6XxCAAE_VjrOVen), although people keep deleting the videos I link to!). I will also include links to all songs throughout the story, for reference.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blaine runs into Dave at the park in Lima. Timothy calls the Hummel house and talks to Finn about Adam. Finn is distressed at Carole's announcement that they're moving into the Hummel house, and asks Angela for help with KISS costumes. Kurt stops at Matt's house, discovers the truth about his secret relationship and challenges Dave to talk to him. Shelby has a pity party for herself and Puck stops by.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theatricality may be my favorite episode in season 1. It's also how I learned about Lady Gaga, so that's a nice connection. Glee has been a great teaching tool about contemporary popular culture for this middle-aged writer. I think I've watched the Burt/Finn lamp scene two dozen times since it was first aired. Even if it's reimagined here, it's still an incredibly powerful scene, and is absolutely worth rewatching. 
> 
> Quoting from Theatricality, some modified. Warning for references to a teacher-student sexual relationship. 
> 
> Thanks to knittycat for writing the original Blaine/Dave scene, almost two years ago now. 
> 
> -amy

Blaine thought it was strange being back in Lima in the middle of the spring. He was restless and full of untamed energy. He knew it wasn't the season that was causing his distress, but the associations he had with Lima now. It just made being there all that more confusing. Lima was his childhood, and Santana, and babysitting for Francie, and the library with Davey. And now, Lima was  _Finn._ Blaine wasn't sure what to do with that.

Lima wasn't home anymore. Blaine was pretty sure Westerville would never feel like home either. The library felt like home, in a lot of ways, the kind of home he could take with himself inside of books that felt like old friends, but he was too knotted up in his own body to feel comfortable reading. He needed to  _do_  something. Okay, he knew what he needed, but he could wait until Wednesday for Finn to give him that. For now, he'd have to deal with his anxiety on his own.

Blaine veered off towards the park where he and Santana had played as kids. It was late enough, the playground would be empty and he would be able to swing unnoticed until he felt calm enough to handle his house.

Only it wasn't empty.

When Blaine pulled into the parking lot, he caught sight of a slightly hulking form curled on one of the swings. It was hard to tell, from the distance. He hadn't seen him since that day after he'd danced with the boy at Masque, but he thought that it might be Dave.

"Hey," Blaine whispered over the crunch of his sneakers in the pea gravel. He had to say it again to catch the boy's attention. "Hey… Dave?"

Dave turned, his face set and cold. "Anderson." He barely nodded before turning away. "How's your rich boy school?"

"It's fine." Blaine huffed out a breath as he settled into the other swing. "I'm safe there, which is more that I can say for how things were at Catholic. How's McKinley?"

"Sucks," Dave muttered. "Can't breathe there."

"Santana told me you'd become some kind of hockey star and general hard-headed ass."

Dave snorted a humorless laugh. "Sounds like her. Yeah, I guess that's me."

"What happened to you, Dave?" Blaine tried to reach a hand out to touch Dave's shoulder, but Dave was up and a dozen steps away in a heartbeat.

"Don't touch me," Dave said, and then mumbled  _damn faggot_  under his breath. Blaine tried not to wince, but the words never got easier to hear. Especially from someone he'd once considered a friend.

"You can't fool me, Dave. I know, remember?"

"I swear, Anderson, if you don't fucking stop talking—" Dave wheeled around, hands in clenched fists at his hips, face twisted in what Blaine expected to be rage, but was actually the worst kind of hurt.

"Whoa. Okay." Blaine stayed on the swing, fighting the urge to cross the gravel to Dave, and throwing his hands up in surrender. "I just — we used to be friends. And you looked like you could use one of those right now."

Dave kicked at the gravel with the toe of his sneaker. "You gave up any right to call yourself my friend when you fucking abandoned me for that stupid school. You told me — you  _promised,_  Blaine. When we were kids. That we'd figure it out together. And then you fucking left."

Blaine ran a frustrated hand through his hair, not caring how unruly his curls became. "I had that stuff figured out a long time ago. Anyway, you never seemed to care all that much about taking any help from me."

"God. You're so fucking frustrating." Dave stalked back towards the swing set and leaned against one of the metal anchor poles. "You just never paid the right kind of attention."

Blaine knew Dave was telling the truth; he was pretty well oblivious a good deal of the time. Case in point: what Finn had seen in him that had led him to grasp his wrist and steer him where he wanted him to go. But whatever.

"I feel like I'm missing something here," Blaine said, shaking his head.

"I would have followed you to the damn ends of the earth for some help, Blaine." Blaine could hear a hint of anger under words that had lost their steam.

"Oh." Blaine felt his anger melt away. Because it was all suddenly crystalline in Blaine's mind: the way Dave ran every time Blaine mentioned a boy he liked, or went silent when Blaine would ask about any boys Dave had crushes on.

"Yeah.  _Oh."_  Dave's voice was mocking, but only half-heartedly. He looked broken and tired, and so, so sad.

"I didn't… I never realized." Blaine gripped the chains of the swing until his knuckles were white, and fought the urge to start pumping his legs. He just wanted to escape.

But he couldn't, because Dave was suddenly there, right in front of him, moving forward. Surging into Blaine's space in front of the swing, and his brain couldn't make sense of any of it, not of Dave's hands on Blaine's knees, or the warmth of his body, or the easy pressure of Dave's lips on his own.

Dave, who'd never asked Blaine for anything, was begging for something Blaine couldn't give back. He  _couldn't._ He gasped at the kiss, and twisted his head away.

"No, I c-can't," he stuttered. "I'm not — there's someone."

He wasn't sure what had made that slip out, when it wasn't like that with Finn. Except what it  _was_  was something he was certain he couldn't explain to Dave.

Dave was standing, a not-quite-comfortable distance between them. "Who? Some other rich boy from your fancy-ass school?"

Blaine bristled at the suddenness with which Dave's barriers had gone back up.

"No," Blaine said. "Someone from here, actually."

"Someone I know, then." Dave's voice was a monotone.

"Probably. Um." Blaine thought about those earliest days, when Dave had been Davey, and Finn had been the one telling them not to get hurt on the swings. "I'm sure of it, actually."

"Well, come on. Who is it?"

He shook his head. "It's private."

He watched carefully as a surge of anger flared over Dave's face. "You think I would ever tell any of your secrets? Come on. You know me better than that."

Blaine wouldn't have told anyone in Lima about Finn. But Dave was right. Blaine did trust him not to tell. And being able to say their names together — freely, without trying to hide behind  _Christopher_  and  _Patrick_  — that was almost more compelling than he could bear. He hadn't realized until that moment how much he wanted to be able to say it out loud.

He looked Dave straight into his eyes, and without stuttering, he said clearly, "His name's Finn."

Dave's reaction was immediate, and nothing like what Blaine expected. His lids flew up in distress.

"You — you can't," he blurted. "He's got — he's cheating on you."

Blaine shook his head. "No. He's not."

"I'm telling you, he's already got a boyfriend," Dave insisted, his voice rising. Blaine thought Dave might be close to crying. Dave wouldn't hit him, of course; Blaine knew that no matter how worked up he got, Dave wouldn't even consider doing that to him.

"I  _know,"_  Blaine said. He shook his head again, this time ruefully, and chuckled to himself. "He has three of them."

The astonished expression on Dave's face almost made Blaine laugh. And then Dave was moving, storming across the playground, muttering.

"Dave!" Blaine pushed himself out of the swing and followed, almost running to catch up. "Davey," he pleaded, and when Dave finally stopped and turned there actually were tears streaking down his face.

"You have no fucking right to call me that anymore," Dave growled. "We're not little boys. We're not even friends, Anderson. Pretend that we never met. Pretend that I don't matter. Pretend that I'm nothing. Just leave me the fuck alone, because everyone else damn well has."

"Dave, wait. I don't understand —"

"No. You wouldn't. You wouldn't know what it's like, all happy with your fancy house and your fancy school and your faggot boyfriend. Everybody loves you because you're like some golden boy or shit, and all I have is my damn father, and Matt — shit." He choked on a sob. "He's nothing but a fuckin' cheater."

 _Matt?_  Blaine wanted to ask. He wanted to apologize, to hug Dave and tell him to forget the kiss, that it would be okay, but he couldn't do any of those things.

"Yeah. And his fuckin' parents took him out of school. He's just . . . gone. So just go, Blaine. Please. Just leave me alone. Everyone else already has."

Dave's hands were back in fists, and Blaine could feel anger and fear and desperate wanting pouring off of Dave, but Blaine felt helpless to do anything. So he just stood there, pleading with his eyes for Dave to stay, to talk. The worst part was that Blaine  _knew_  Dave didn't actually want to leave. He would have to keep him there with his words.

"I didn't even know you had a boyfriend."

"Yeah, apparently? Neither did he. I didn't qualify."

Blaine watched Dave wrestle with his hurt with a sense of pointless futility. "You're not going to let him go, are you? If he won't come to you, go to his house. Tell him how you feel."

"You still don't get it," Dave said. He sounded tired. More than tired; exhausted. "It's not  _him_  that I feel things for. Maybe he could have been, but… he won't even give me a chance. To see if it could be real. Now he's  _gone,_ just like you."

"It doesn't have to be that way," Blaine insisted.

But Dave was already closed off, stone-faced and distant. "Goodbye, Blaine." Dave's voice was rough, and oddly intimate, and it made Blaine shudder because he sounded so lost.

Blaine watched Dave walk, backwards, towards the parking lot, like he couldn't make himself turn away. Like he was waiting for something. Blaine lifted his hand in a silent wave.

He didn't know what else to do besides let Dave go.

* * *

Finn had just arrived at the Hummel house when the phone rang on Sunday afternoon. He was the only one in the family room, but he still paused a moment before picking it up. It wasn't  _his_  phone, after all.

"Hello?"

" _Who's this?"_ asked a familiar voice.  _Puck's brother._

"It's Finn, Timothy." He sat at the table, listening to the sounds of rehearsal in the background. "Where are you?"

" _We're in British Columbia,"_  Timothy said.  _"Adam's getting ready for a performance in Coquitlam. Don't even ask me where that is, because I couldn't tell you. It's just another performance. Did you see him on Nightline last month?"_

"You sound like a real fan," Finn said, grinning.

He could hear Timothy's snort.  _"Don't get me wrong, Adam's very talented. But I'm not here for that."_

Finn was pretty sure he knew why Timothy was there. Really, it was significant that he was  _there,_  at all, considering he could have run at the first sign of Jacob's tether, drawing him along with Adam's entourage into yet another country. Adam had crossed several international borders in the past month. "You went with them to Singapore, right?"

" _And Finland, and the Netherlands. And before you ask me how they were, I'll just say they mostly consisted of long flights, interviews, bad food and obnoxious fans. That was about all I saw of any of those countries."_  He sounded perturbed. It made Finn smile bigger.

"Who are you calling for, Puck or Sarah? I don't think they're here, but I can take a message."

" _It's not for Puck or Sarah,"_  Timothy said.  _"It's not even really a message. More like a request, really. You can hear it as well as any of the rest of them."_

"Oh." Finn scratched his head uneasily, glancing at the empty family room. "From… Adam?"

" _From Gaga."_

That made him twice as uncomfortable. "Oh! Uh… wow. You sure you don't want me to find Kurt?"

" _Look, Gaga would't bring this up herself, but I'm there with her more often than not. I hear what's going on. People are starting to talk about the connections between your school and Gaga. Brad's been Skyping in weekly for creative discussions on the new album. She's talking about flying him out there this summer for a month or more. And there's still buzz about how she took Kurt's input on the Hair number."_

"That was pretty awesome," Finn agreed.

" _Yeah, and you're not the only one to think so? I'm just saying, people are noticing the relationship between Lima and Gaga — and Adam. They're putting things together. I think it would be a good idea if you guys kept cool about the connection. You know, under the radar? Especially with your regional competition coming up."_

He had to laugh. "Who cares what a show choir from Ohio does?"

" _You really think the Internet allows anybody to do anything privately? Jacob tried to cover our tracks after visiting Tessera in February, but it hasn't been easy. I mean, last week, in Stockholm, the press was asking about rumors of his secret boyfriend."_

That stopped his laughing. "Did somebody say something?"

" _People are always saying things. Reporters want to know about Gaga, if she and Adam are friends. He always says the same thing — no, we barely know each other — but there's only so much redirection he can handle, especially in the state he's in."_

"What… state?" Finn asked slowly.

" _Don't ask. Half of Jacob's job these days seems to be putting out fires for Adam. It's not that he's screwing up, exactly, it's that he doesn't listen to anybody. The kitchen is a disaster, but he won't hire a housekeeper. He seems to think he needs to handle everything himself, and he's just… I don't know, exhausted and punchy and freaking out, and he doesn't want anybody to know."_

Finn wasn't sure what to say. "He seems so together on his interviews. Not that I've been, you know, watching them or anything… okay, maybe I watched Leno, but…"

" _He's not. Together, I mean. He's a mess."_  Timothy sighed.  _"Look, Adam's not asking for anything. It's Gaga who brought it up, with me. But it's not for her. Stefani doesn't care what anybody thinks of her. You get what I'm saying?"_

Finn nodded to himself. "I got it. I'll make sure Puck and Kurt aren't letting anything out about Adam, or Gaga." He paused. "You want to talk to Sarah? She went to her first middle school dance on Saturday."

" _I'd better go. Adam's got two concerts this weekend, and then he's back to the US to tape American Idol. See you."_

Timothy was gone as abruptly as he'd appeared, which was in keeping with his usual mode of communication. Finn sat thoughtfully with the phone in his hand for several minutes, wondering if there was anything he could do about this.

Finally he went downstairs. He found Kurt, Puck and Sarah in Sarah's corner room. Puck was slouched on the floor, leaning on the wall with his guitar on his lap, singing a mellow version of Neil Diamond's "America," while Kurt held up various scarves and swatches of cloth against the wall for Sarah's approval. He turned and smiled as Finn came in.

"We won," he said, hugging Finn tight. "The Cheerios get another national championship. Not that Coach Sylvester needed it, but… some of those girls really did."

"And guys," Finn agreed. He kissed Kurt on his nose, making him laugh. "You were the star, baby. You totally deserve it."

"I'm kind of glad it's over, though. How was Columbus?"

"It was fine," he said dismissively. Finn still didn't know quite how to talk about Blaine with Kurt and Puck. It was easier just to let their — their  _thing —_  be in Columbus and Westerville without trying to bring it back to Lima, especially knowing that Blaine didn't want anyone to know where he was from. Finn tried to conceal his frustration. Kurt, Puck, Blaine, Carl… now even Gaga was asking them to keep things quiet. All this hiding was wearing on him. He turned to Sarah. "How was your dance?"

"It was pretty lame." She pointed at one of the scarves Kurt was holding. "I like that one better. And something weird was going on with Danielle, I don't know what. I think it threw Frances off, kind of. She was on edge all night."

Finn came over to crouch down next to Puck, running a hand over his leg and up the side of his thigh. Puck didn't stop playing, but the expression on his face was calm. It was as good an assessment of his mental state as anything.

"That was Timothy on the phone," Finn said. Puck raised an eyebrow. "He just… wanted to say hey. And I guess to say that Adam's been extra super busy, if you haven't been able to get through to him."

Puck nodded. "I figured," was all he said.

Finn wasn't fooled. He was pretty sure Adam hadn't spoken to either Puck or Kurt in days, that their routine of talking every night had been reduced to every couple days, and lately to a few times a week if they were lucky. Adam didn't even  _know_ about what Puck had done with the tires.  _Tess is taking care of it,_  Finn thought, but he knew that wasn't going to solve everything.

Puck sang the second verse while Finn listened, watching Puck's fingers move effortlessly on the strings to form the chords:

_Home_  
 _Don't it seem so far away_  
 _Oh, we're traveling light today_  
 _In the eye of the storm  
_ _In the eye of the storm_

_Home_  
 _To a new and a shiny place_  
 _Make our bed and we'll say our grace_  
 _Freedom's light burning warm  
_ _Freedom's light burning warm_

Finn tried to let Puck's guitar calm his worries. Listening to Sarah and Kurt chat about throw pillows and privacy screens wasn't helping, especially considering how awful the fabric choices were.

"Why are you letting them decorate?" Finn said under his breath to Puck. "You know Sarah can't stay down here."

"She can't  _sleep_  down here. Doesn't mean she can't have an awesome room to herself. It's not like we could use it for somebody else's bedroom anyway. And look at them." He gestured at Kurt and his sister. "They're having a moment. I ain't gonna interrupt it."

Finn sighed, settling back beside Puck along the wall, and sang along to the chorus:

_Everywhere around the world_  
 _They're coming to America_  
 _Ev'ry time that flag's unfurled_  
 _They're coming to America_  
 _Got a dream to take them there_  
 _They're coming to America_  
 _Got a dream they've come to share  
_ _They're coming to America_

"I think that's my favorite song from those CDs your dad had," Finn told Puck.

"Really?" Puck looked surprised. "I mean, yeah, it's a good song, but… there's a lot of good ones. I don't know if I could pick one favorite."

"You don't have to," Finn assured him. "You can have lots of favorites. You can have them all."

* * *

Kurt gave Glee a mini-recital of his fourteen-minute Dion medley on Monday. Listening to Kurt sing all of his French songs was harder than Finn had expected it to be. For one thing, he had to watch Puck beaming at Kurt from the front row, while he was forced to contain his own reaction. Maybe Quinn or Mercedes would have been fine with Finn giving Kurt a big smooch in front of everybody, but Finn was pretty sure now wasn't the best time to make a big public statement. He had to content himself with smiling as Puck leapt up after the final note to hug Kurt.

For another thing, it made it really clear that he hadn't been around Kurt's house much lately, because he didn't recall Kurt practicing any of those songs — and he was sure Kurt must have, a lot, in order to sound that good.

Once he was done, Mr. Schue gestured to include Brittany and Santana in the back. "Questions for our national champs?"

"What's the best thing about being a champion?" Tina asked.

"No more six AM Cheerios practice," Santana drawled. Everyone laughed, even Finn.

"What's next for you?" he asked.

Santana gestured at the nearly-empty choir room. "You're looking at it, baby. It's New Directions' turn to win something. Regionals is in less than three weeks. How about we kick Vocal Adrenaline's big shiny butt?"

"Doesn't that require for us to actually have some songs and be practicing them?" Rachel gave Mr. Schue a pointed stare. "I bet Vocal Adrenaline has been working on their routines for months."

"Yes, well, that's not how we do things here. We're not going to beat Vocal Adrenaline with skill." He put his hand to his chest. "We're going to beat them with heart. Let me tell you the story of my senior year at Baldwin-Wallace music camp."

Mr. Schue took a seat on the piano bench next to Brad. Finn noticed Brad wasn't rolling his eyes or grimacing, the way he often did when Mr. Schue tried to relate tales from his personal life. He just leaned in a little, touching Mr. Schue's shoulder with his own in a gesture of support.

"It was our ninth and final year before heading off to college. It was the year where we knew we'd be the stars — our best chance to play the lead role in the musical, to get noticed one last time. We'd all applied and gotten into the schools we were happy with. I was going into education at B-W; Brad was doing music performance at Ohio State. Our best friend Andi had chosen music education, also at B-W."

"What about Toby?" Kurt asked.

Mr. Schue gave him a thin smile. "Toby hadn't decided if he was going to go to college or not. He had a full scholarship at B-W in the dance department, but he also had a job with a touring dance company, and he'd landed several roles in real professional theater productions. A degree didn't mean much to us back then, not if we got to perform." He nodded at all of Glee club. "Practical experience counts for a lot in theater, and Toby had been working as a dancer since he was thirteen. And…" He sighed, glancing at Brad.

"They weren't really talking to each other," Brad said. It was still uncommon enough that several people startled at the sound of his voice.

"No," Mr. Schue agreed. "I'd… said some awful things to Toby, at his debut of Singin' in the Rain that December. For the first time, we were walking into B-W as rivals. Toby was, of course, gunning for the lead in the summer musical — and I decided I would fight him for it. And I have to say, I'm not a very good loser."

Mike was fascinated. "What musical was it?"

"West Side Story."

Rachel nodded knowingly. "Tony's an excellent part, but it's not really a dance-heavy role. Primarily it's for singers."

"That's right. Back then, Toby wasn't all that strong a singer. So I worked my tail off, with the help of some dancer friends." He coughed. "And I, uh, might have enlisted the political help of some of Toby's rivals."

"Mr. Schue, you little minx," Santana murmured, grinning.

Rachel leaned forward. "Well? Which one of you got it?"

"I did." Mr. Schue looked sheepish. "Toby got the part of Riff, which is a much bigger dancing part."

"Was he pissed?" Puck wanted to know.

"As pissed as Toby ever gets. But then, when we realized we were going to have to work together for the whole summer on the musical, we made up and were friends again." He clasped his hand together. "Since then, Toby's played the part of Tony twice in regional professional companies. He's proved his competence a hundred times over."

Quinn chuckled. "I get it. You think he threw the audition so you could have the part."

Mr. Schue hesitated, looking at Brad, who was grinning.

"He still denies it," Mr. Schue said. "But I always suspected he did exactly that. When Toby accepted this job at Carmel, I made him promise he would  _never_  do it again. We're honest rivals."

Rachel huffed. "Honest rivals don't throw eggs at their competition."

"Come on, Berry, that was personal," said Santana. "Jesse St. Douchebag wasn't going to walk away without rubbing your face in his perceived failure as a man. Although I still swear my gaydar's not broken about him."

"So what's your message, Mr. Schue?" Finn shook his head. "That we should try our hardest to win, and lose anyway, because Vocal Adrenaline's just better?"

"Finn, if they  _are_  better, they  _should_  win." He pointed at the white board, where  _Regionals_  was written in big block letters. "I just don't believe they are. Funk isn't the only thing you have that they don't. This week, we're pulling out all the stops. There is no limit to our creativity. We're going to find ourselves a showstopper."

While the club broke up into small groups to brainstorm, Quinn sidled up to Finn with a sour expression.

"There's something to be said for trying new things," she said, rubbing her swollen belly. "But honestly? This should be the time when we're doing dress rehearsals, not inventing routines from whole cloth."

"Mr. Schue's looking for inspiration," Finn said. "Like when we sang Don't Stop Believing. Nothing we've done since Sectionals has been inspired like that. He's right that we're not going to beat them in traditional choreography. So we should be sticking outside the box." He chewed his lip intently. "Like Kurt's Hair number."

"You think we should do more Gaga?" Quinn said, sounding doubtful.

"No," Finn said hurriedly. "Not Gaga. Just… that kind of thing. I don't know."

The afternoon wrapped up without anybody having any significant breakthroughs. Finn watched Kurt hurry out the door with Puck in tow, without even a mention to Finn about where they were going. He felt a little depressed by what Quinn had said about rehearsal, but even more depressed that he'd apparently be riding his bike home. Kurt had a car, and Puck's Impala would be rideable pretty soon, but Finn was still depending on other people's vehicles to take him places. Carl had let him drive the Corvette down to Columbus again that weekend while he'd quizzed Finn on his Spanish. Going back to riding his bike made him feel like a kid again.

On the way home, his phone rang. He had to stop on the corner and dig it out of his backpack to answer. It was his mom.

" _Can you meet us at Burt's house?"_  she asked.

"Us?" he echoed. "Who's there? Why are you home so early?"

" _Just come over. And come through the front door. We have a surprise for you."_

She was waiting on the porch when he rode up, dumping his bike on the front lawn. "What's going on, Mom?"

She smiled in clear anticipation. "Come inside. Okay, now… close your eyes. Everybody's downstairs."

Finn did, smiling back, mystified. "Okay?"

His mom took his hand and led him through the front hall toward the basement staircase. She guided him patiently, helping him around the corner, down the steps and toward the door that led to the garage.

"Is there a car in here for me?" he asked, keeping his eyes screwed tight.

"I think one car at a time is all we can afford, honey," murmured his mom. She pulled him to a halt. "Open your eyes."

The first thing Finn saw against the gray wall of the room was a big purple  _Welcome Home_  banner. Beside that was Kurt, dressed in his muted plaid jacket, the one he'd found at the thrift store when he and Sarah had gone shopping for a dress for her dance. Kurt had been so excited about finding that jacket, but at the moment, all Finn could do was stare at the champagne flute in his hand, and his poised, coy smile.

"Sparkling cider?" Kurt asked, holding it out to him.

His mom looked like she was about to burst with excitement. He followed her into the room, smiling despite himself.

"Welcome home?" He gestured at the sign. "What did Puck think about that?"

"It's not for him, it's for us," said his mom, hugging Burt. "Burt asked us to move in with him, for good."

His smile was consumed by the anxiety that followed it. "And this is how you're telling me?"

Finn watched his mom's smile fade. She glanced uneasily at Burt.

Kurt stepped forward. "The party was my idea. If you're going to say something, say it loud, right?"

It felt like a strategic jab to the gut. Finn swallowed his reproachful response, because of course it wasn't Kurt's fault they needed to stay closeted.

"It's going to take some getting used to, but trust me, you're going to love it," Burt added. "Hey, now you don't have to drag your tail over here every time you want to watch something on the old 55-incher." He pointed at the spread on the table. "We've got a lot of food… ethnic food? I suppose it'll be delicious no matter what it is, knowing Puck…"

"Tuna crudité," Kurt said, as Burt placed a morsel of food into Finn's hand. Finn cast an appeal at his mom, but she was pleading right back with her eyes.

 _Accept this,_  her glance said.  _Please, for me, for us._

Finn wished with all his heart he'd just talked with his mom and Burt about what Puck had told him about home inspectors and the illegality of any of them sleeping in the basement. A law wasn't something he wanted to mess around with, not one that could get his whole family into trouble. Not when there was so much at stake.

"The house isn't big enough," Finn said. "Sarah was right."

"It's twice as big as ours," his mom countered. "It has two and a half bathrooms."

He shook his head. "I don't want an extra half a bathroom, or a — a tuna crude. I don't want to try this thing again and have it make things  _worse."_

Kurt tsked, taking Finn's arm. "I see what's happening. This resistance is about our room. And I couldn't agree more. The palette down here is totally unflattering to your skin tone. Not everyone can pull off Dior gray." His eyes sparkled. "We need to redecorate."

"Wait, wait." Finn pulled his arm free from Kurt's and attempted to speak firmly and clearly. "We can't share your room. I'm not cool with that."

"Honey, I know it's weird, all of us packed in here like sardines," his mom implored. She leaned her head on Burt's shoulder. "But you said yourself, it's worth it. I know in time you'll be as happy as I am."

Finn shook his head. "It's not about the decorations. Okay, maybe the gray concrete walls are a little depressing, but that's not the problem. Kurt's room, it's — we  _can't live_  there."

"Yeah, we've been talking about this," said Burt dismissively. "I'll knock out a wall upstairs, I'll put on an addition." He pulled out his wallet and held out a couple bills. "Until then, maybe this'll grease the wheels a bit? Okay? That's three hundred, you can redecorate."

Finn drew away from the money even as Kurt darted forward, slipping it out of his dad's hand.

"Don't worry, roomie," Kurt promised, fingering the handout. "Mr. IKEA catalog and I will have this all figured out."

Finn felt like he wanted to cry. Was Kurt going to try to get rid of the green couch next? An addition, though… that sounded promising. Maybe one more room would be enough to appease the home inspectors when they came to visit. He tried a smile and took a bite of the tuna appetizer Burt had handed him. It was awesome, of course.

Puck was preceded down the stairs by Sarah's voice calling, "Hot oil coming through." He was carrying a ceramic pot on legs with a little burner underneath. He set it down on the table next to the platter of tuna things and dug a book of matches out of the pocket of his jeans. Sarah placed a basket of bread cubes next to it.

"Fondue," she said, stealing a bread cube and popping it into her mouth.

While Kurt fussed with a box of long forks and Carole and Burt chatted with Puck about family game night, Sarah nudged herself in close to Finn. He was a little unnerved by this. Even though she and Kurt were pretty snuggly, Sarah seldom made contact with him.

"Moving in, not your most favorite idea?" she asked quietly. "You think it's gonna blow up in our faces?"

"Well, yeah. You were right." He shrugged. "This place is too small for us. I don't know I'm going to be able to do anything about it, though. I'm not the adult here."

Sarah scoffed. "Did that stop me from making plans?"

"No, but they didn't exactly listen to you, either. They're not taking your house idea seriously."

"It's okay."

Finn could feel opposing impulses warring inside himself. Some of them felt the kind of thing a grownup would do. Those were the ones that told him to protect Sarah from the stupid regulations of the legal system. Then there were those impulses that told his heart to just be honest, to trust her to withstand the stress of just about any announcement. The latter impulses won out.

"If you move upstairs," said Finn, "you can stay in the house, but Puck can't be in that room with you. Seven people in a two bedroom house is too many, and the basement is off-limits for sleeping. If the social service people come to check on us —  _when_  they come — they might move Puck to live somewhere else."

"Yeah, I know." She sat on the bottom step with her empty plate balanced on her skinny knees. Finn sat beside her. "Or I could go to your house and he could stay here, with you and Kurt."

 _Not if we don't have my house anymore,_  Finn thought. He sighed. "I guess I should be talking to my mom about this. She just doesn't seem to be taking it seriously."

"I'm waiting to bring it up," Sarah said.

"Waiting?" he asked. "For what?"

"For her and Tatenui to keep thinking about it." She wasn't smiling. "I already thought about this, all of it, for months. Now, they have to do that too — to consider everything, all the money things and family things and everything else. There's a lot of stuff."

Finn looked around the drab gray room. Standing here like this, with six people talking at once, it seemed a lot smaller.  _I'll have to sell my drum set,_  he thought sadly _._

"A lot of stuff," he agreed.

"Yeah. Pretty soon they'll be done considering, and I'll be ready."

He fixed her with a look. "You'd better be prepared for them to say no for real, Sarah."

She tipped her chin up in determination. It wasn't anything like the way Puck would have responded to that look, even though her hazel eyes were so much like his. She wasn't defying him. She was just quietly standing her ground. "You watch. It's not over yet."

* * *

But Tuesday during Glee, things just got worse. Rachel reported that she'd been spying on Vocal Adrenaline, and had discovered they were dressing up in christmas lights and Chantilly lace. Puck made a stupid crack about "that Gaga dude," which set Kurt off for using the word "dude" for a woman. Finn had to sit there and listen while Mr. Schue decided Gaga would be their assignment. And finally, Rachel seemed to be organizing another drive out to Carmel with Quinn and Mercedes.

Finn stopped at Mr. Schue's office after class. "Can I come in?"

"Yeah, yeah, come in." Mr. Schue was leaning over his laptop. "I'm learning all this amazing stuff about Lady Gaga. She has this thing called the Haus of Gaga, which is this collective of artists and designers who collaborated on her staging and music… and look, isn't this Puck's brother?" He swiveled the laptop around to show Timothy Puckerman's name on the Haus of Gaga credits page. "I remembered Puck said he was involved with her somehow, but… that's so cool!"

"Yeah," Finn said, letting his gaze wander around the room as though he were bored. Mr. Schue took the hint.

"Anyway. I think it's an exciting model for what we could be doing in Glee club."

Finn took a deep breath. "Yeah, that's kind of what I wanted to talk to you about. I don't want to do Gaga. And I suspect, with the exception of Kurt, none of the other guys are going to want to do it either."

Mr. Schue was looking at him like he'd grown two heads. Finn scrambled for a reasonable excuse.

"I just feel like… we're always doing whatever the girls want to do."

Mr. Schue nodded slowly. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right. Maybe I haven't been listening to you guys hard enough. So… let's find a solution."

"Well, I actually already have one," said Finn. "It's theatrical, and it's all guys, and I think we can figure out the costumes and makeup."

He'd heard about KISS, of course, but he hadn't really paid attention to their music. As far as he was concerned, KISS was just another 80s hair band with a clever gimmick. But in one of Kurt's six hundred thousand viewings of Adam's American Idol performances, Finn had seen Adam sing with KISS. If there was anyone who fit the mold of  _theatricality,_  it was Gene Simmons and Paul Stanley. And if he and Puck could pretend to rap with Mercedes, he and Puck could definitely rock the KISS costumes.

Selling the other guys on it didn't take much effort. When Finn showed Mike Chang a video of KISS — one without Adam, of course — Mike couldn't stop laughing.

"I'll feel like an idiot in that makeup," he said, his cheeks red, "and I'll be kind of useless on anything but backup vocal, but I'll do it."

Artie was less enthusiastic, but he agreed too. "I want to be Ace Frehley," he said. "Spaceman sounds better than Starchild to me."

"Puck can be Starchild," Finn nodded, "and I'm the drummer, so I guess I'll be Catman?"

"No way, man," Mike said. "That means Matt would have to be The Demon. He'd never agree to that, not as religious as he is."

"Fine, fine, I'll be The Demon, even though I'll be on drums. Nobody will care. You wanna be Catman?" He looked around. "Where is Matt, anyway? He wasn't at school today. Or yesterday, for that matter."

"I'll call him," Mike volunteered, pulling out his phone. "Maybe he's sick."

But Matt didn't answer the phone. "Don't worry about it," Finn said. "I'll try him later. We need to come up with some costume stuff, and time to practice. Can any of you guys sew?"

Even on a minimal budget and cannibalizing pieces from old Halloween costumes, they didn't get much further in the theatrics part of their theatrical assignment. His mom was working second shift this week; he was pretty sure she would have offered to help, but nurse administration wasn't the kind of job where he could show up at her workplace and ask her for things.

"Can you ask Kurt?" Mike suggested to Puck hopefully.

"He's dead set on Gaga." Puck shrugged. "Which I'm sure will be awesome, but I think he's a little busy making his own costume."

"I think I might have somebody who can help," said Finn. "Can we get together at my house tonight to work up a number? You guys, listen to KISS music after school and pick a couple you think would be fun to sing. I'll see what I can come up with."

* * *

His house was overflowing with half-filled cardboard boxes and packing materials when he walked in. On his bed, he found a stack of flattened boxes and a note, which read  _Pack everything you can fit inside. We'll move it in Burt's truck over the week. Love you._

Finn stared around his room in futility. "Where is all this stuff going to  _go?"_  he muttered. The Hummel house might be bigger than theirs, but it wasn't  _that_  much bigger. Unless Burt was breaking ground on the addition right away, Finn had no idea where everything would fit.

While he packed his clothes, he called Carl's office.

" _Finn,"_  Angela greeted him. " _Dr. Howell is with a client right now. Would you like to leave a message?"_

"No, actually, I'm calling to talk to you. I know you're really busy and stuff, so you can say no, but I have this thing for school?" He crossed his fingers. "Do you know how to sew?"

* * *

Kurt decided to pattern his costume on Gaga's silver Alexander McQueen outfit from her "Bad Romance" video. Walking in platform shoes took some practice. He could only find black ones in his size, but he was sure he could make them look good with suitable application of paint and rhinestones.

He'd made a good deal of progress when Finn called, in obvious distress.

" _Kurt, I'm still shopping for fabric and face paint. This is taking longer than I thought it would, and I still can't reach Matt. Could you tell Puck to drive by his house and explain the Glee assignment?"_

"He's grocery shopping for the week." Kurt glanced around at the pieces of his own costume, half-pinned and spread on the square coffee table. "I could do it, though."

" _Thanks a million."_  He sounded relieved.  _"I'll text you his address. Tell him the guys are meeting at my house — I mean, my old house — at six to rehearse."_

Matt lived in one of the more affluent subdivisions of Lima, where most of the houses had two stories. Finn paused on his way up the front walk, noticing the  _For Sale - Seller Motivated_ sign posted on the lawn. It made him pause and think. Matt's neighborhood wasn't Lima Heights, with its sprawling lawns and large estate homes, but it seemed like the houses here would be plenty large enough for all six of them. Kurt wondered how much a house like Matt's would cost. He took a real estate flyer from the lucite box and tucked it into his pocket, then rang the doorbell.

The girl who came to the door was about Sarah's age. She looked at Kurt with startled eyes.

"You're Kurt," she said. He nodded, trying to remember her name.

"Are you Danielle?" he asked. She nodded back. "You're friends with Frances, right? I'm looking for Matt. Is he here?"

Danielle looked over her shoulder, then back at Kurt. "Yeah. But he's not supposed to come out of the house. He's the backyard, though. You can meet him around back. If you see my dad, I'd run for it."

Kurt didn't know anything about Matt's father, but he was inclined to believe she was serious. Judging by the expression on her face, she believed it. "Thanks," he said, heading back down the porch. "Just - should I go around this way?"

"Yeah, there's a gate. He's working on the lawn." She was already closing the door. "Can you tell Sarah I'm sorry about missing the dance?"

The lawn on the side of the house obviously still needed work, because Kurt had to wrestle with some overgrown weeds to get to the gate leading through the fence. He'd just put his hand on the latch when he heard a familiar voice, hushed and bewildered. It was Dave Karofsky.

"So that's just it? That's the end? You're not even going to let me try?"

"Dave, I'm your friend. That's not going to end." Matt didn't sound angry. Kurt was pretty sure he'd never heard Matt angry, anyway.

"But you're saying that's it. I don't even get a chance to…?" Dave sighed, the sound louder than his words.

"Whether I like it or not, I'm moving. I don't think we're going to get another chance. And I'm sorry my choices hurt you. I didn't handle this the right way." He sounded so regretful.

" _Handle_  this?" Dave demanded. "Like I had no part in it? How useless do you think I am? You know, I don't think I want to hear the answer to that."

Kurt took an uneasy step back from the gate, wondering if he should leave, but Matt's gentle words stopped him in his tracks.

"I hope someday you find what Ken and I have."

"Oh my god. Just — don't try to explain." Dave's voice was tight, rife with pain. "I can't hear you talk about that without wanting to puke."

"Why? Because he's a teacher? He's just a guy, like you and me."

"Fuck." Kurt heard a heavy impact, and the fence shook. "Because  _you_  think you've got something good, and I just want to tell you you're being fucking  _used_. Because you used me and the worst thing is you don't even know it."

"I didn't mean to hurt you," Matt insisted.

"Does that  _matter?"_

The gate in front of Kurt opened suddenly. Dave Karofsky was framed in the opening. When he saw Kurt, he stopped where he was, the words on his lips fading to nothing. His face had gone ash-white.

Kurt couldn't have spoken even if he'd wanted to. He just took one step to the side, giving Dave room to walk past him, and Dave bolted for the front yard.

"Dave," Matt sighed.

"He's gone." Kurt returned to the gate, now looking at Matt standing where Dave Karofsky had been. He opened his mouth, and just shook his head, incredulous.

Matt cast a useless glance at the overgrown yard. "I'm — supposed to be trimming the hedges."

Kurt stepped through the gate and closed it behind himself, then turned back to Matt. "Matt… what's going on? I didn't know you were moving. Are you…" He was about to ask  _are you in trouble,_  but the answer was obvious. "What happened?"

"You can't tell anybody," Matt pleaded. "You have to promise me."

"Okay. I won't." Kurt's mind was racing.  _Dave Karofsky?_  He followed Matt over to where the hedge was most overgrown, watching him set his clippers and trim the overhanging branches. "Did you — I mean, the two of you —?"

"For a couple months," Matt said. "It was nothing. Just two friends messing around. Or I thought it was." He sighed, looking toward the gate. "I really hurt him."

"Because… you got involved with somebody else?" Kurt had heard the words  _teacher_  and  _Ken,_  but he wasn't going to assume anything until he heard it from Matt's lips. Matt nodded.

"It was more than that. It was a big deal. Me and Ken, we were…" Kurt saw Matt's chin quiver, then he refocused on the hedge and gave it another trim. "It was the kind of thing I couldn't say no to. Not because he made me, but because it was so good."

Kurt held his breath. "And someone found out."

"My father." Matt's voice was even, but Kurt could see on his face how hard it was to say the words. "I think he knew about me, but he wasn't going to…" His eyes slipped away. "He made some phone calls. My parents are pulling me out of school before the year is over. We're moving."

"Where?"

"Philadelphia."

Kurt almost couldn't ask. "What about your — what about Ken?"

"He resigned, lost his teaching license. It was that or up to five years jail time." Matt shook his head. "We were so stupid. It wasn't like we didn't know what we were doing, but… we did it anyway." He faced Kurt. "I told my father I had to come back to school, at least until Regionals. I don't want Glee club to suffer for what I did."

"Matt…" Kurt couldn't make himself say what he knew the law said:  _This isn't your fault. He was at fault, not you._  If Adam had been a teacher at his school, could he have said no to him? Would he have? He didn't know the answer. He reached out and touched Matt's arm. "I'm so sorry."

"Yeah, me too. You won't tell anybody? Especially about Dave. He loses his temper, but he's —"

"A nice guy?" Kurt asked softly. "He trapped me in a locker, Matt. And he laughed."

"Yeah, and he felt sick about it afterward. Who do you think went back to the school and told Coach Sylvester where to find you?"

Kurt swallowed a gasp. Matt snipped another branch off the hedge.

"I figured you might have some forgiveness for him. Considering you're dating Puckerman. Didn't  _he_  throw you in dumpsters for a whole month?"

Kurt thought about the look on Dave's face when he'd confronted him in the locker room last week. Under the anger, he'd clearly been terrified. "I don't know. I mean — yes, he did. But I don't know if I can forgive Dave, just because he's…" He shook his head. "I do feel bad for him. I know what it's like to be closeted and hurting. But I didn't persecute him."

"He could use a friend, Kurt. He's not going to come out. Not everybody's as brave as you." Matt gave him a little smile. "I have to finish this yard work."

"Finn," Kurt said, and paused, gathering his bearings. "Finn asked me to tell you he's having a rehearsal tonight at his house. They're doing a KISS number for this week's Glee assignment."

Matt nodded. "I'll ask my father if I can go. He's not feeling very charitable these days, but he believes in letting me follow through on my commitments." He touched Kurt's arm, just briefly. "Thanks for keeping this to yourself."

Kurt sent a text to Finn saying he'd spoken to Matt. He didn't think he could handle talking to him on the phone and not mentioning what had just happened.

"Ken," Kurt murmured to himself. He was pretty sure there was only one teacher at McKinley with that name. It made him feel a little sick to think about it, but — honestly, who was he to judge?

Then he spent a few minutes figuring out where Dave Karofsky's house was, and a few more considering his options, before driving back to his own house. First priority was dealing with his own responsibilities. Then he could think about helping other people with theirs.

* * *

Matt did end up showing up, a little late, but Finn thought he seemed excited by the assignment they'd been given. Finn's mom hadn't been crazy about the idea of the five of them rehearsing at the empty house, but she didn't tell him they couldn't. Finn was pretty sure his mom wouldn't say no to very many things, as long as he was going along with moving into the Hummel's.

Angela had told him what kind of measurements he'd need for making their costumes. While he scribbled down numbers on a pad of paper, they argued about which song they should sing. It was the meaning of the assignment,  _theatricality,_  that led them to choose "Shout It Out Loud."

"I still think 'Rock & Roll All Night' would be better," Puck said.

Finn didn't respond, but he knelt down beside Puck while he was getting out his guitar.

"Gaga wants to keep Adam's connection to us quiet," he murmured. "That's why we're not doing a Gaga song. You'd better stop bringing up references to what Adam did with KISS."

Puck rolled his eyes. "So what? There's a reason why Adam sang those three songs on Idol with them. It's because they're good songs. Nobody would look funny at us for singing good songs."

"You tell that to the reporter who was asking about  _Adam's secret boyfriend."_  Finn looked meaningfully at him while Puck blanched. "And apparently, Adam's already more stressed out than even Jacob can handle."

Puck looked at him curiously. "You care what happens to Adam?"

"Sure I care," Finn said. "He's your boyfriend, and Kurt's. Let me do what I can to take care of you."

That made Puck a little wobbly. Finn left him to get it together while he helped Artie unpack his guitar.

It was a great rehearsal. Finn had several wistful moments when he thought about what it would be like if Carl and Blaine could be there with them, but the five of them sounded pretty fantastic. Puck worked up harmony vocals for the choruses, and Artie promised he'd have the guitar solo down by the time they made their debut for Glee.

"Would they really let us sing this for Regionals?" Mike asked curiously. "With the guitars and everything?"

"I don't know. Seems like there would be rules about that. But it would be awesome." Finn grinned. "We can ask?"

Artie's mother had just driven away when an unfamiliar car pulled up in Finn's driveway. Puck was the only one left. Finn looked out the window.

"That's Mercedes," he said. "What's she doing here?"

Mercedes got out, then Quinn, and then the two of them helped Rachel out of the car, walking arm-in-arm with her up the walk. They looked serious. Puck opened the door for them.

"I don't think my mom would want all of us —" Finn began.

"Rachel found out that Shelby Corcoran is her  _mom,"_  Mercedes said, looking at Puck while she said it.

Finn stared at Rachel, who nodded. He didn't even think before opening his arms, and she went right into them, but all he could think was,  _oh my god — Shelhy?_

"Thank you," he said to Mercedes. "I'll take her home."

Puck didn't look surprised at the news at all, but Finn wasn't going to grill him about why in front of Rachel. He brought her into the family room and moved some boxes away to make space for them to sit.

She touched the boxes in confusion. "Finn, are you moving?"

"Into Kurt's house. Maybe. It's complicated."

Rachel laughed shakily. "What's not, these days?" She held onto Finn's hand. "I'm sorry for barging in like this."

"You're invited." Finn looked at Puck for confirmation, and he nodded too. "Don't worry about it. What happened with Ms. Corcoran? Uh, Shelby?"

"Yes, she asked me to call her Shelby. It was… awful, and wonderful, and awkward, and… I'm kind of overwhelmed and disappointed at the same time? I think I was hoping for something bigger than just  _I'm sorry, this was a mistake."_  She picked up the framed photo of Finn and his father, still sitting on the end table next to the old recliner, and looked at it sadly. "Knowing… doesn't make it any easier. I'm not mad at her. I just wish we had some script to follow here." She smiled faintly at Puck. "I suppose the two of you understand how that might feel, not having a model for what you're doing?"

"Yeah," Finn said, exhaling. "I think you just make it up and try things, and if they don't work, try more things?"

"That sounds kind of terrifying," Rachel said. "But maybe not so different from the way we've been running Glee club all year, and that's been mostly wonderful."

"Well, I hope you give her a break," Puck said. "She's been freaking out about this pretty much since you were born. Seeing you from far away is totally different from trying to be your mom."

Rachel looked baffled. "You  _knew_  about this? How?"

"Shelby's been kind of a friend for the last couple months. We both like to cook. She told me all along she couldn't tell me about some things, and you were one of them, but I figured it out." Puck grinned at her expression. "Don't worry. We both got plenty of secrets left."

* * *

Shelby almost didn't get up to answer the doorbell. For one thing, it was after ten on a Tuesday. For another, she was more than halfway through her third glass of shiraz, and she wasn't at all sure she wanted to present herself to anyone in this condition. But it was Puck at the door, and after a heavy sigh, she unlocked it and let him in.

"You have a key," she said testily.

"I know." He edged around her to the kitchen, holding up a bottle of 2009 Conundrum. "I figured it was polite to at least check to see if you wanted company. Maybe you had a guy over, who knows. How's Toby? Any word?"

"It was a congratulations cake," she said, raising her glass.

Puck let out a long breath of relief. "Fuck. Okay. That's one thing I can tell Kurt to stop worrying about." He handed her the bottle. "I guess this would be a congratulations bottle, too."

She set the bottle on the counter and returned to her chair, where the half-empty bottle of shiraz was waiting for her. "Congratulations for what?"

"I don't know?" He sat down in the chair across from her. "Having your daughter introduce herself to you? That's kind of a big deal."

She looked away. "I'm not going to say it's not. I just don't think it's the same deal I was hoping it would be."

He shrugged. "So what? You're telling me things always have to be the way you expect them to be for you to be happy?"

"No, I just —" She huffed and drained her glass, setting it down carefully on the table. "I told her I'd call her.  _I'll call you._ Like she was just another one of my long string of failed first dates. I don't know what I was thinking." She shook her head. "Yes, I do. I wanted her to let me go."

"So you can stop having to worry about her?" Puck guessed.

"I'm always going to worry about her. I just want to be a mom, a  _real_  mom. Not  _her_  mom. I don't want her to worry about  _me._  She knows who I am now. Now she can move on."

He tilted his head. "Or you can?"

She groaned, holding her head in her hands. "God. I didn't want her to  _care_  about me. Is that incredibly selfish of me? I don't know what's selfishness and what's self-preservation. Or denial."

He picked up the bottle of wine and her glass and took them into the kitchen. "What's so bad about her caring about you?"

"Because then I have to worry about letting her down. Before she knew who I was, it was just… pretending." She made a small cup of her hands. "Dreams, of what could have been. Now…" She opened her hands, like she was letting something escape. "Now it's  _Rachel_ , asking to get to know me."

"What's wrong with that?" he persisted.

"Because I'm a  _terrible person,"_  she snapped. "Jesus, Noah, look at me. I'm thirty-six and single. I've failed at everything I ever tried. I'm manipulative and bossy… I don't even have one friend."

He grinned. "Well, that's obviously not true."

"You don't count." She waved him away. "I'm talking about…"

His eyebrows went up. "Yeah, what  _are_  you talking about? You want to go toe-to-toe with failure? Because I'll win."

Shelby avoided his insistent stare. "Not really."

"No, come on." He numbered his fingers, eyes glittering. "My dad, alcoholic, beat his kids when he wasn't skipping out on birthday parties. My ma, alcoholic, possibly fucking crazy before she checked out early. Two super examples of parenting, I'll tell you. My brother, left home when he was sixteen, still avoids me like the plague. I'm failing out of most of my classes. The only thing I'm really good at is fucking up. Okay, and I'm good at the guitar. And oral sex, I'm a champion at that."

She glared at him. "Noah."

"No, really, I am. So you think I should be having a kid? Because I'm  _doing that_." He reached out and surprised her by grabbing her hands. "I am. I'm having a little girl. She's going to be awesome, and I'm going to love her like nothing else. I already do."

She blinked away tears. "I know you do."

"Yeah. So who's an inadequate candidate for being a parent? So what if your marriage failed, or you didn't get to be a big superstar on Broadway? Look at what you do for your kids every day. Rachel told me you were a great teacher, and she watched you for three minutes."

That made her cry harder. He squeezed her hands.

"Shelby," he said fiercely, "I think you'd be an  _amazing_  mom."

While she fumbled on the side table for a box of tissues, Puck came around to sit beside her. He waited until she blew her nose, then he put an arm around her.

"It's not weird," he said, when she looked at him suspiciously. "You can think of it like you're my big sister, if you want."

Her sigh felt more like relief than defeat. She leaned into his warmth. It was incredibly comforting. "I'm not your big sister, Noah."

"No," he agreed.

"I'm not your mom, or your teacher." She closed her eyes, only resisting his comfort a little bit. "If I were, I wouldn't be drinking in front of you. I don't even know what I  _am_  to you."

"Friend," he said. "That one for sure. I think Toby is, too, so that's two of us."

"I'm not used to being friends with… well, anyone, really. Especially men who aren't gay."

"I'm kind of gay."

She laughed. "You are not. You might like guys, but you still like girls too. I can tell."

"Well, that's not why I'm here. Trust me, if I were trying to get into your pants, I would have done it by now. My dance card's pretty full."

They sat in silence for a while. Shelby thought she might have fallen asleep for a few minutes.

"I got into really big trouble with Finn for the tires. And Carl. And Tess." Puck took Shelby's hand and turned it over, sliding his fingers into her palm. "She asked me to ask you to send her the bill for replacing them, and she'd pay for it."

Shelby was too tired and muzzy with wine to be really surprised, so she just nodded. "She's an amazing woman. I was always terrified of her."

"Yeah, she does that. But she loves me." He said it with a certain amount of wonder, no smugness at all.

"You have a lot of people who love you."

"Yeah. Finn, you know about. And Kurt, and my sister Sarah. She's eleven. And Burt, Mr. Hummel, Kurt's dad, and Carole Hudson, Finn's mom. That triad in Santa Fe I told you about. And Lady Tess."

She had to smile at the  _Lady_  appellation. "And Max."

"And Max," he said quietly. She felt more than heard the sigh. "He's heading home to LA from British Columbia this week."

"You miss him a lot."

"Way more than I wish I did," he agreed. "I'm sure he feels the same way."

"Sorry about the pity party. I don't really think my life is that bad." She closed her eyes again. "When she walked up to me this afternoon and said  _I'm your daughter,_  it was… the most amazing feeling in the world."

"I can't wait for that," he whispered. "It's happened so many times in my dreams, but knowing it'll happen someday for real, that's fucking incredible."

She nodded. "You deserve that, Noah."

The next time Shelby woke up, she was under her covers in her own bed. She wasn't wearing any pants, and she was alone. She flipped on the light. There was a glass of water by the bed next to two Tylenol, and a note that read  _Call your daughter. -N._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt and Tina are harassed by Azimio and Karofsky for dressing in their Gaga outfits at school. Brad asks Puck to babysit for him over the summer while he is in Bel-Air with Gaga. Finn talks to Thumper while he puzzles over a confusing diagram. Azimo and Karofsky accost Finn in the bathroom, putting on his KISS makeup. Finn reassures Kurt about the way he expresses himself, and offers to help with Adam. While Kurt is out, the rest of the family takes a tour of the Rutherford house. Finn and Puck discover what’s been going on with Matt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More quoting from Theatricality, with some significant adjustments for Donutverse plot, including a reversal of perspective in one scene. Warning for D/s, some schmoop, and impending angst.  
> -amy

Tina's costume was a perfect recreation of Gaga's Hussein Chalayan-inspired bubble dress. Kurt had to give her kudos for pulling it off, and the wig, in his opinion, was better than Gaga's.

"But I wouldn't tell  _her_  that," Kurt said airily to Tina. "She didn't wear anything fancy in her own house. It just seemed ordinary. Well, as ordinary as it gets in Bel-Air, I suppose."

"Did you see Santana?" Tina followed beside him, trying to keep up with his long strides in his big platform heels. "She should wear lace unitards every day."

Kurt knew they would be a target at some point, but he didn't expect it to happen so fast. It took less than thirty seconds from the moment they walked into school.

Azimio didn't bother to shoulder-check Kurt. He just reached out and  _shoved_  him into the bank of lockers.

"Excuse me," Kurt said, as loudly as he could, with as much outrage as he could muster. "Were you dropped on your heads?"

The look Dave gave him when he turned around was nothing short of astonished. "What was that?"

"I think you heard me." Kurt was speaking in a more normal voice now, but by now they had an audience. Dave and Azimio approached him slowly, and he tried not to back away. "I'm just saying. Pick on me, that's fine, but don't throw around a girl."

Azimio shrugged. "Well, you know, lately we haven't been able to tell the difference. We're not gaga for Gaga."

"You dress all freaky," Dave added, "and then you rub it in everybody's faces. I don't want to look at it all day. It's weird. Makes my eyes tired."

Kurt watched Dave's face carefully for any sign of covert communication, but if Dave was feeling anything other than actual revulsion and annoyance, he was covering it masterfully. Kurt wasn't sure what he had expected from Dave after the events of the night before, but this unaltered veneer of calm wasn't it.

"It's called being theatrical," Kurt said. "We're showing off who we are. It's the same thing you do when you go to school with your football uniforms on. You're expressing yourselves — and we have every right to do the same."

"Yeah, well, don't be surprised the next time you want to be theatrical if my fist ends up expressing itself against your chin." Azimio made a point by slamming his hand against the lockers. It made both Tina and Dave jump. Kurt decided not to mention it.

As they walked away, Kurt turned to Tina, who was frowning.

"Don't worry about Azimio," he said. "He's all bark and no bite."

"I'm not," she said, glaring at him. "I'm worried about you standing up for me because I'm a  _girl._  What's up with that? And don't say it's because of my high heels, because you're wearing them too, mister."

It took Kurt another five minutes to come up with an apology that satisfied Tina, and by that point they were at chemistry class. He didn't have time to deal with this at the moment.

But the longer Kurt sat there, attempting to focus on the meniscus within his Erlenmeyer flask, the more annoyed he felt. Not because of the way Dave was behaving, but by his own inability not to care. The  _Dave Karofsky's an asshole_  excuse might still be true, but it wasn't going to cut it anymore. Obviously Dave was a master of covering his true feelings, to the point that Kurt couldn't even be sure what was true and what wasn't. The way Dave had been when he was talking to Matt, he had to assume  _that_  was real, but the rest was an enigma.

Finally he raised his hand and asked Mrs. Chen for a pass to the office. "I have a headache," he said. Which was true: Dave Karofsky was  _definitely_  giving him a headache.

There were enough students still making their way to class that Kurt was able to find an unsuspecting freshman to help him. He gave her a cheerful smile. She looked doubtfully at his costume.

"Would you please go into that class and ask David Karofsky to come to the office?" he said. "It's regarding student council."

Kurt had no idea if Dave Karofsky would consider being summoned by student council duties to be a good enough reason to leave class, but Kurt was willing to bet a tardy in creative writing on it. He waited in a doorway until Dave came striding by, then hissed, "Karofsky."

Dave turned, saw Kurt, gritted his teeth, and looked like he was about to just keep on walking when Kurt added, "The office doesn't want to talk to you about student council."

Dave looked around to make sure nobody was watching, then set his jaw and stared at Kurt. "What do you want?"

"I want you to talk to me," said Kurt.

"Yeah, well, I'm not going to talk to  _you_  about  _anything_ ," Dave said. He looked Kurt over and shook his head in disbelief. "Especially not like that. You look like a cross between George Washington, an Oceanic whale and a disco ball."

Kurt resisted the urge to snap back a retort. He kept his face even. "So, what if I show up at your house after school in completely ordinary clothes?"

Now Dave looked uneasy. He scowled. "Do you even own any ordinary clothes?"

"I think I could manage to find some. What time will you be home?"

Dave's eyes flashed, but he looked more like he might be about to cry than yell. "Are you fucking serious?"

"I am  _completely_  fucking serious," said Kurt.

They stared at one another for several seconds before Dave took a step back. Then he swiveled away, fuming, and headed back the way he'd come. Kurt watched him depart, then returned to chemistry class, feeling somewhat settled.

"How's your headache?" Mrs. Chen asked. "Better?"

He shrugged. "It hasn't subsided yet," he said, "but I think I might be able to cope with it."

* * *

Brad was waiting for all the Little Monsters in the choir room when they returned from their Bad Romance performance, giving notes to the jazz band musicians. He grinned at their costumes, nodding at each one in turn.

"Elegant," he said to Quinn. She pirouetted and curtsied. "How'd the performance go?"

"We killed it," Tina told him, smiling brilliantly at the room. "I feel completely vindicated. Screw Figgins and his prejudice against goth. This made it all worth it."

"I'm sure Gaga would say the same," he nodded.

"Did Gaga really invite you to California this summer?" Kurt asked, sounding excited.

Brad nodded again. "I was touched that she'd value my input that much. But, realistically, I don't really see how I can get away for a month and leave the kids home alone with Andi and Laurie."

"Are you kidding me? You can't not go! We'd help." Kurt turned to Puck, who nodded. "Babysitting — whatever you need. Although I'm hoping to do summer work with the Lima Youth Theater company. They haven't released the name of this year's performance yet."

Brad nodded slowly. "I'm sure the kids would appreciate your presence, whenever you can manage it."

He eyed Puck, but decided to wait until most of the rest of the club had gone to change to approach him. Eventually the choir room emptied, leaving Kurt and Puck behind.

"Cory's been asking about you," Brad told Puck, which made him grin.

"She's got a lot going on in that head of hers. Not that she'd tell anybody."

"I think she's a little like me in that respect," Brad said. He'd bypass the fact that they weren't genetically related for now. There was something to be said for nurture over nature. "But she seems to trust you. Laurie and Andi and I have talked about it, and if you think you'll be available, we'd like to arrange some part-time home child care while I'm with Gaga in Bel-Air this summer."

Puck blinked. "Me?"

"If you don't think it would be too hard, on top of your other responsibilities. Taking care of an infant, that's a lot of work."

"I — no, I think that'd be — yeah, I could do that." Puck seemed more rattled than Brad had ever seen him, but he shook it off quickly. "You don't have to worry about me and my daughter. I've got people who want to help."

"Lots of them," Brad agreed.

But Puck shook his head. "I mean one person in particular. She's totally ready to be a mom."

Brad blinked at him. "She?"

"Yeah. Shelby Corcoran, Vocal Adrenaline's vocal coach." He gave Brad a smile. "Thanks. You know, for asking me."

"You're great with kids, Puck. There aren't very many adults who've managed to engage Cory's interest. I'm motivated to keep you around." He scribbled down his house phone number on a piece of paper and passed it to Puck. "Just in case you misplaced it. Call Laurie, and she'll get you set on details."

It wasn't easy for Brad to contemplate spending any part of his summer away from home. That had always been his time, when he was able to be with his family: to sleep in in the morning, to take the kids to the park in the afternoon, to appreciate the five of them together outside of the rigid, predictable schedule of Andi's and his own school-year work days. But creating an album with Stefani might be one of those once-in-a-lifetime experiences. If Puck could give his wives the kind of support they needed with the kids, he might even feel okay about leaving them for that length of time.

Brad felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see Will standing beside him, watching Puck and the last few students picking up their things.

"Shelby Corcoran," said Will. He wasn't even going for thoughtful, just settling firmly on stunned. "Did I hear that right? Puck thinks she's going to — what? Help with his daughter?"

"I have no idea. You'll have to talk to Shelby." Brad stacked his sheet music on top of the piano. "You think you'll choose Gaga for Regionals, then?"

Will let him change the subject. "I don't know. Finn has something else theatrical worked up for tomorrow; I'm not sure what it is." Will sighed, his eyes distant. "To be honest, I feel like I'm letting them down."

"Nobody expects you to be perfect," Brad said. "You've already taken Glee Club leagues from where Ryerson had them."

"I  _have_  to be perfect, Brad." His mouth firmed into a determined line. "If I don't, these kids will lose our funding and everything we've gained. This room will turn into a trophy case for Sue's ruthless tyranny. And I —" He shook his head. "I don't know if I can go back to the way things were before I was coaching Glee."

"They won't be like that. You've got Toby out here now. The two of you, you're starting all over again." He looked up at Will. "There's nothing wrong with doing that — starting all over again. Like you said, you're not going to win through skill. But you have a group of damned talented kids here."

That made Will smile. "Yeah. They really are. They've taught me so much."

"Yeah, well, good thing somebody did." He dodged Will's jabbing fingers, grinning. "God knows you weren't listening to  _me."_

* * *

It took three hours for Angela to walk Finn through the process for sewing pieces of fabric together into a costume, but by the time Finn had finished five of them, he was actually feeling pretty confident. Angela had taught him the difference between a bobbin and a spool, the way to thread a sewing machine. She'd given him way more time than he'd deserved, not to mention being infinitely patient with his questionable skill at pinning things together. But the process was mentally exhausting.

By the time he got home, it was after seven and he was more tired than he had anticipated being. He cooked the last box of mac & cheese in the cupboard, thankful that Puck had insisted on some shelf-stable milk in the pantry for those emergency cooking days, and ate it standing up while he packed another box of pots, pans and bakeware.

Doing homework felt out of the question, but Finn wasn't ready to go back to Kurt's yet. He picked up the phone and called Carl, waiting through four rings and the entire  _leave a message_  message before hanging up. With an unsettled sigh, he turned off the light in the kitchen and headed for his drum kit.

The picture of Puck's crayon family was starting to curl up on the edges. He took a moment to flatten it with his thumb, and realized as he was doing it, his other hand was resting over his heart, where the three-note tattoo hid behind layers of clothing. He wondered if he was going to have to explain it to the rest of Glee, if they were going to see it when they were all getting dressed for the KISS number.

"I hope you like music," Finn said to the picture. "I mean, I can't really see how you could possibly not. Quinn, your mom, she's got a really beautiful voice, and your papa…" He cleared his throat. "I'm sure he'll play for you pretty much any time you want."

He tapped out the rhythmic part of Shout It Out Loud, practicing the riffs on the verses and the decorations for a while, but somehow between his head and his hands it turned into something else, and he found himself singing that instead:

_<http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jqFtM7EnhLc> _

_This ain't a song for the broken-hearted_   
_No silent prayer for the faith departed_   
_And I ain't gonna be just a face in the crowd  
_ _You gonna hear my voice when I shout it out loud_

Finn slammed the twos and fours hard, feeling his tangled emotions attempting to surface. He didn't even know how he could let them out without breaking every confidence he'd been asked to keep.

Finally he stilled the vibrating drumheads and tossed his sticks on the carpet, rising to his feet and heading back to the kitchen. He dug through the box from the junk drawer until he found a pencil and a pad of paper, and began to sketch a kind of a flow chart.
    
    
    [Davis]-[Shelby]-[2 dads]  
    
    |        |  
    
    [Jesse SJ] [Rachel]

He squinted at it for a long time, trying to make it make sense, but it still seemed wrong, somehow. On the side, next to the "2 dads" box, he drew another box:
    
    
    [Carl]

Just writing his name gave Finn a shiver. Cautiously he sketched in a line across to connect to Shelby's, over and under the "2 dads" box.

He touched the crayon drawing of Puck's family.

"You might think this is kind of a big family already," Finn said to the drawing, "but there are more people who aren't on it that I hope you'll get to know. I don't want to draw on your dad's paper or anything. Maybe I could just tell you about them. Well… there's Adam. He might not be around much, I guess, but I think your papa would want him on the paper, if he could have that." He hesitated, then added, "And… Carl. He's not… I don't know what he is either." Finn shook his head, feeling muddled. "Maybe I shouldn't even mention him. He's not your papa's anything, hardly."

The tiny little crayon figure was so small, so insignificant compared to the other figures on the page. His own figure towered over the rest of them, holding fast to Kurt's hand. Finn wished suddenly for a real life Kurt, holding his hand, telling him  _relax, Finn,_  and  _you're making too much of this, it's nothing._

"Small things can make a big difference," he whispered.

He carefully detached the picture from the drum kit and placed it on top of the snare, watching it vibrate faintly with every little sound that hit the surface. Leaning closer, he hummed, then opened his mouth and sang softly:

_I want your drama, the touch of your hand_   
_I want your leather studded kiss in the sand_   
_I want your love, love, love, love, I want your love_   
_I want your love and I want your revenge  
_ _You and me could write a bad romance_

The paper did a little dance, moving across the drum as the drumhead picked up on the tiny vibrations caused by his quiet singing. Finn finally had to pick up the paper and hold it close to his chest, where the tattoo lay hidden.

"I may have to leave my drum kit behind when I go to Kurt's," he said, "but I'm not leaving you."

* * *

The instruments and KISS costumes fit fine in the back of Kurt's Navigator. Kurt helped Finn brought them to the back of the auditorium and unloaded Puck's and Artie's guitars and the few drums the spare kit at school didn't have. Kurt had somehow managed to get Sue to agree to let them borrow the Cheerios' fire cannons; maybe winning Nationals meant that she would be off their backs for a while.

Kurt kissed him by the Navigator, out of sight of anyone who might be walking by, but it made Finn smile anyway. "You're going to put on your makeup by yourself?"

"I've practiced it," Finn protested. "I'm not completely hopeless, you know."

Kurt looked at him like he'd said something ridiculous. "Did I ever say you were?"

Finn wasn't absolutely sure Kurt hadn't ever said anything like that, but he shook his head. "No."

"You made those costumes. With Angela's help, but you did it. That's amazing, Finn. You're amazing in so many ways, I can't even tell you." Kurt smiled up at him, his eyes shining. It gave him the most incredible warm feeling inside, to have Kurt looking at him that way at  _school._  "I'll see you in the auditorium during Glee, and I'll take extra good notes for you in history."

Actually putting on the KISS makeup wasn't all that hard, but doing it in the boys' bathroom was almost impossible. Finn startled at every noise, ducking inside the handicap stall twice when people stopped by to pee between classes.

And then, just as he was carefully lining the shape of the bat-mask onto his face, Karofsky and Azimio burst out of the two center stalls on the sound of a flush. Finn leapt backward against the mirror.

"What up, Finn?" Karofsky looked almost pleased to see him, his eyes glittering a challenge.

Azimio was right behind him. "What's that on your face? You got a bad pimple or something?"

"Yeah, a Finnple?" snickered Karofsky. Finn tried to laugh along, but they were having none of it. Dave pointed a finger at Finn's half-made-up face. "Dude… are you wearing  _makeup_?"

Finn realized abruptly that he'd forgotten to layer the makeup on top of face cream, the way Kurt had instructed him, and swore to himself.

"I knew it was contagious." Azimio's lip was beginning to curl. "You moved in with that Kurt kid, and now you got a bad case of the gays."

Whatever Azimio thought he knew was irrelevant. Dave was the one with the evidence. Finn shook his head. "It's just something for Glee club, all right, fellas?"

"Oh, and that's definitely not gay." Dave shoved him further back toward the sink.

"How many times do we gotta go through this?" Azimio looked seriously annoyed. "You being a jock and being in this Glee club does not make you versatile. It makes you bisexual."

Finn did his best not to roll his eyes. "So what if I am?"

Azimio squinted incredulously at him. "You're admitting it?"

"I'm saying, what does it matter if I am?" Finn countered.

"Oh, it matters. You're asking for the same kind of treatment we gave that poor little shorn lamb Puckerman." Azimio polished his fist and held it out to Finn. "Just because you're quarterback don't make you special. You're getting too fucking big for your tutu, there, Hudson."

He kept his eyes on Azimio, watching Dave out of the corner of his eye. Dave was still sneering, but Finn knew him well enough to be pretty sure he was feeling uneasy about something.

"The whole slushie thing is getting old, guys," said Finn, pitching his voice toward quiet command. He was pretty sure that would piss them both off. "Kurt and Puck, they're not going to change just because you throw cold sugar water on them, and I'm not either."

Dave's face betrayed nothing. "This isn't about changing you. It's about reminding you who's in charge around here. And if we need to beat you up to do that, well, our schedules are  _wide_  open."

Finn set the eyeliner pencil down on the sink and grinned at him. "You really think beating me up is going to put you in charge of anybody?"

Azimio scowled. "Y'all get out of my bathroom. You girls, you belong across the hallway." He and Dave made a quick exit, Dave sniggering the whole way.

Artie was the first of the others to arrive, and by then Finn was almost completely finished with his makeup. Finn felt a little awkward helping him into his costume, but Artie walked him through it matter-of-factly explaining each step. Mike and Puck were next.

"You guys seen Matt?" Puck asked, lining his lips with red. He smacked them in the mirror, smiling at the effect.

"He said he'd be here," Finn told him. "Mike, get the snaps in the back. Can you see my hair under this wig?"

Mike sighed as he fastened Finn into his costume. "This is completely awful."

"I think it's awesome," said Puck. "It's loud, and crazy, and exactly what Glee needs. What's wrong with a little eyeliner?"

"We don't have to be making the same statement as the rest of Glee, but we're definitely making one." He looked at Mike, his expression serious. "You sure you're okay with making it together? We might all get punished for it together."

Mike swallowed, and nodded. "No cameras, though. I think if my dad saw me like this, I wouldn't live to see senior year."

"Kurt's all set to take video of us," Puck said, "but I swear it won't end up on Youtube or anything. It's just personal."

"Personal," Artie echoed. "You mean for the guy you're seeing in LA."

He shrugged. "Whatever. He's too busy to care."

Artie looked curiously at Puck. "Doesn't Kurt mind you seeing another guy? I mean, doesn't he get jealous?"

"No way," said Puck. "He knows I'm the sex shark. He wouldn't try to cage me."

Mike looked more and more uncomfortable as they spoke, but Matt walked in before Artie could ask anything else. He gave them a wan smile.

"Dude, you look exhausted," said Artie to Matt. "What's going on?"

"I've got a lot going on. But I'm here." He nodded appreciatively at Mike. "Wow, you guys look exactly like the KISS guys on that video. Finn, you're the costume master."

"Let's get on the stage and test out those fire cannons before Figgins sees our costumes," Artie suggested. "Considering he's scared of vampires, I don't think he'd be all that thrilled about demons."

* * *

 

_[ _http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0HKP3B0ya5Q_ ](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0HKP3B0ya5Q) _

 

 

_Don't let 'em tell you that there's too much noise_   
_They're too old to really understand_   
_You'll still get rowdy with the girls and boys_   
_'Cause it's time for you to take a stand  
_ _Shout it, shout it, shout it out loud_

* * *

Finn thought Kurt was oddly quiet on the way home after school. He didn't even object when Puck blasted KISS on his iPod.

"We should do Adam's whole medley and send him a video," Puck said. "He's going to totally freak when he sees the recording from today. You sure you got it, baby?"

"It's on my phone," Kurt said absently. He pulled into the garage and got out quickly, picking up the bag with his ten-inch platform heels. "I need to spend some time fixing these. The rhinestones just won't stay stuck. Maybe a hot glue gun."

"I'll go upstairs and start prep on dinner before I take off my costume," said Puck. "Cool?"

"Cool," Finn affirmed, clapping him on the shoulder. It was the best shorthand Puck had found to communicate a need for approval, and receive it, without drawing attention to themselves. Finn was pretty sure that nobody but people who knew what they were already doing would interpret what Puck was asking as  _may I please, sir_.

It was convenient, but Finn felt a little sad every time Puck did it.  _Another way we're hiding,_  he thought, and sighed.

He walked into the basement room with Kurt, carefully hanging his costume up on the hook on the back of Kurt's bedroom door. It was a little crowded, navigating around one another in Kurt's small bedroom, but they managed. While Kurt settled down to do repairs, Finn sat at Kurt's dressing table and gingerly began the process of wiping off his makeup.

"Could you have a word with Azimio and Karofsky about harassing me without messing with my KISS outfit?" Finn said wryly. "I worked hard on that thing."

Kurt glared at him across the room. "Are you serious? Do you know how difficult it is with those guys? They already suspect we're boyfriends."

"Let them think what they want," said Finn. "They're assholes. In three years, we'll be out of here and we'll never have to deal with them again."

"Don't you get it? It's not just them." Kurt shook his head. "We live in Ohio, not New York or San Francisco or some other city where everyone feels comfortable being out."

Finn turned around on the stool to face him, looking closely at him. "Kurt, what is this? This isn't you talking."

Kurt fixed his eyes on the shoe he was repairing. "People don't understand why I need to make such a big spectacle of myself."

"People," Finn said softly. "Meaning Karofsky and Azimio." After a moment, Kurt nodded. "They wish you would just work harder at blending in."

"I'm sure that would be easier for them," said Kurt.

"You know, I bet it would." Finn looked meaningfully at him. "Doesn't mean you should do it."

Kurt sighed. "I've been telling myself all along, how I present myself has nothing to do with anyone else. That I should be myself, all the time, no matter the cost to others, and they can just deal with their own homophobia in their own time. But…"

"No, it  _does_  have to do with others," Finn said. "Kurt, the person you are in the world, when other people see you being yourself — that makes a difference. It did for  _me._ " He scrubbed a little harder. The stupid makeup just wasn't coming off. "When I was trying to figure out myself, I came to you because you were awesome. Every day, I'm trying to be more like you."

Kurt bowed his head a little lower, his face crumpling as he cried. Finn started to rise to go to him, but Kurt set the shoe down and came to Finn instead, keeping him at arm's length with his fluttering and fussing.

"You are such a boy," Kurt said through his tears. "You're going to need a moist towelette if you want to get that makeup off." He reached across Finn, pulled a wet wipe out of the packet and began to dab at his face. Finn grabbed his wrist, bringing him to a standstill. Kurt stared down at Finn, looking up at him from the stool where he sat.

"Thank you," Finn said, putting every bit of feeling he had into his words. "Thank you, baby, for being exactly who you are, every day."

Kurt's eyes were full already, and they spilled down his cheeks, but he didn't move one inch to wipe it away.

"It's just a moist towelette," he whispered.

Finn reached up and took Kurt's face in both hands, pulling him down to kiss him, first on his lips, then methodically all over his face.

"You don't let anybody tell you who you get to be," he said, with force. He heard Kurt whimper.

"Yes, sir," said Kurt.

Finn's kisses were leaving black and silver marks on Kurt's clean cheeks, but he didn't stop. "You're perfect, just how you are, however you want to be, all the time." He held Kurt's face firmly in both hands and looked into his teary eyes. "Puck's my good boy, but you're — you're my baby.  _My_  baby." He kissed him again, hard, on the lips. "And you're so good."

Kurt dissolved into loud sobs, flinging his arms around Finn and holding on with all his strength. Finn just held him close, the moist towelette forgotten on the floor.

"I think sometimes," Finn said into his ear as he cried, "who I might be right now, who I might have been, if I hadn't met you this year. If we hadn't gotten close, and you and Puck hadn't gotten together." He kissed Kurt's ear tenderly. "If our parents hadn't met and fallen in love. I wouldn't have met Carl, and you wouldn't have met Adam."

"I know," said Kurt, his voice distorted. "I fell for you so hard, and I never thought — I never expected you to love me like this. And now I have so  _much._ " He lost himself in another bout of tears, and Finn held him through it.

"You think you don't deserve it?" he asked.

"It's not that." Kurt wiped his eyes. "I just never want to take it for granted. Not when — other people don't have anything."

Finn nodded. He reached over and handed Kurt the handkerchief sitting on the dressing table. "Do you mean Adam?"

Kurt looked startled, then embarrassed. "I — no, I didn't, actually. God. Do you think that's how he feels? I never thought —"

"I don't know him," Finn said quickly. "You're his boyfriend, not me. But talking to Carl, and that recent thing on the phone with Timothy… I was wondering. He's kind of alone, isn't he?"

"He has Jacob," Kurt said, then stopped and stifled a sob, one hand to his mouth. "He really is alone. Oh my god. I just — he's  _Adam,_  and I never thought about him — about him  _needing_  anybody."

"He loves you," Finn said. "And Puck. He's not here, and he's busy, but that doesn't go away just because he's on Leno and Ellen and flying around the world. I have to assume when  _Timothy_  says he's freaking out, that he really is."

Kurt's face was already settling as he thought. Finn watched him frowning in concentration, and was caught off guard by the enormous wave of love that threatened to drown him. He just sat there, wearing a stupid grin, watching Kurt process.

"You think he's cracking under pressure? He's — oh!"

Finn had swept Kurt into his arms, pulling him down to sit on his lap.

"This okay?" he asked.

"More than okay," Kurt said. He laughed, his face still wet. "I don't think this silver fabric is all that conducive to snuggling, though."

"I'll cope." Finn nuzzled Kurt's neck. "But yeah, maybe he is kind of cracking? I mean, he doesn't have the kind of support we do, does he? His mom's not always around. He's there alone with Jacob, and Jacob's been busy with Timothy. He needs… he needs Puck there, to cook for him. To serve, to take care of things." He chuckled, shaking his head. "No. He needs an  _Angela._ "

Kurt rested his head in that perfect spot on Finn's chest, the one that made Finn feel like he never wanted Kurt to go anywhere else. "Not too many Angelas around. I mean — maybe there are, I wouldn't even know?" He thought for a moment. "Could you talk to Carl about finding Adam a slave? Someone who could travel with him, help him at the house?"

"Jeez. I don't know. Maybe I could." Finn looked at Kurt. "Would you like me to do that?"

Kurt smiled. "I don't know if he would hate the idea or not, but… yes, please? Will the two of you be driving to Westerville to see Patrick tonight?"

"Not tonight. Carl's doing dress rehearsals for Les Misérables this week. I thought I'd go see the Friday night show." He sighed. "I guess I can't really ask you to go with me."

"All six of us could go together," Kurt said, petting Finn's chest, "me and Noah and Sarah and our parents. And you and I could pretend to be annoyed by being forced to spend family time together."

Finn looked wistfully at Kurt. "You're really satisfied by that? That kind of pretending?"

"No, but it might be what we have right now? I think we have time to make it work. If pretending is what we need to do in order to keep our family safe, that's what we'll do." Kurt looked far more calm than Finn felt. "It's worth it."

Kurt helped Finn take off the rest of his makeup, then he took off his Gaga outfit, put on a pair of sweatpants and a plain t-shirt. He re-wiped his own face and went up to check on Puck. By the time Finn had showered and joined them upstairs, Puck was setting the table.

Kurt reached into his pocket and handed Finn a folded piece of paper. "Noah, look at this," he called. Puck put the stack of dishes down and came over to see.

"A house for sale?" He looked over the flyer. "Rutherford?"

"I picked it up when I went to Matt's," said Kurt. "His parents are moving and they need to sell the house, quickly. It seemed nice enough. And I was wondering…" His words stopped, but his meaning was clear in his face, the way he looked at both of them.

"Your folks might be able to get a good deal," Puck said. He shrugged. "Could be worth checking out?"

"Matt's moving?" Finn scratched his head. "He didn't say anything to us about it."

Kurt didn't have anything more to say about that, either. As Finn looked over the description of the house and the photos of the interior, he couldn't help but feel a little hope. It did look like a nice place, with a big kitchen, four bedrooms and a three-car garage. They could live a lot more comfortably in a house like that.

"You want to show Sarah?" he asked Kurt. Kurt hesitated.

"Maybe? I don't want her to think we don't believe in her plan, but… something like this is a lot more realistic." He turned to Puck. "Do you think she'd be completely offended?"

"Even if she is, she'd check it out, if it was you doing the asking," said Puck.

Burt and Sarah arrived home just as his mom pulled up in Burt's truck, bearing a load of boxes from the Hudson house. Sarah looked irritated, and Burt and his mom were giving each other meaningful looks.

"They met with the social worker today," his mom told him quietly. "She wants to schedule the first home visit for the beginning of May, and then another one for during the summer after the baby's born."

"What'd she say about the addition?" Finn wanted to know.

"He didn't mention anything about it. We're going to wait until the visit happens to have that conversation."

Finn glanced at the flyer sitting on the counter. "We were kind of looking at another house for sale. It's a pretty good price, and it'd be a lot bigger than here."

His mom smiled and kissed him on the head. "You're very sweet to want to help. Burt and I are still talking. We'll let you know what we decide."

It was an entirely unsatisfying answer. They ate dinner in relative silence. Kurt reached over at one point and took Finn's hand under the table, giving him a little smile.

"I've got to go out for a while," he said. "There's an uncomfortable conversation I have to have. I won't be back too late."

Finn loitered around the dining room, trying to help clean up without getting in Puck's way. He noticed Sarah doing the same thing.

"I hate not having anything to do," Finn told her.

"You could do your homework," she said. He laughed.

"You sound like my mom. I was going to try to unpack some of the boxes in the basement, but there's no room for me to put anything."

She leaned on the back of the dining room chair. "Kurt's dead set on decorating my room tomorrow. He bought some shelves and stuff at IKEA, so maybe there'll be more room after we put them together? I'm just waiting for him to get started. And Frances is hanging out with her old babysitter tonight; I guess he's visiting from college or something."

He reached over and handed her the flyer from Matt's house. "Kurt saw this house for sale. You think it would be worth looking at?"

She frowned at the photos and description. "Hard to know, without a floor plan. Like, square footage doesn't really tell you much about how it's laid out. They must be pretty desperate to ask that price for that size house, though, or else there's something seriously wrong with it."

Finn nodded. "You want to go look at it with us?"

"Right now?"

"Why not? We could call Matt's parents and check it out?" He peeked in at his mom and Burt, sorting through the books and DVDs on the shelves in the family room. "I just don't think this house is going to work, and they're like, nesting, or something. I think if we don't push them to do  _something,_  they're going to get settled here and it's going to be too late."

Sarah was already on her feet. "I'll tell Noah."

Finn brought the flyer into the family room and cleared his throat. "Mom? Can you stop for a minute? We have an idea."

* * *

Mrs. Rutherford looked pleased to see them on the porch, even though it was after seven. He invited the five of them into the foyer.

"We were glad to get your call," she said to Finn's mom, shaking hers and Burt's hand. "We're very motivated. The movers will be here on the thirtieth."

"Of April? My goodness, that is fast. I've been talking to a realtor about selling our house, but I don't think it'll even be ready to show by then."

Sarah hung back next to Noah, waiting for Finn to follow the adults into the kitchen. Finn saw Matt's sister standing at the top of the stairs, looking down at them through the railing. She gave Sarah a little wave, but Sarah didn't wave back.

"You want to go upstairs and check out the bedrooms?" Finn asked Sarah. "I bet she'd tell you what you wanted to know."

Sarah raised an eyebrow. "Danielle's not going to know whether the windows are Energy Star rated, or the zoning of the lot. But, okay, I can do that." She trudged up the carpeted steps, looking resigned. Matt passed her, coming down while she was on the way up.

"You guys are looking at the house?" he asked Finn. He looked back and forth between him and Puck.

"Finn and Kurt's parents are moving in together," said Puck. "I'm just along for the ride. Where are you guys moving?"

Matt glanced around to make sure they were alone. "Kurt didn't tell you? I mean, I asked him not to tell anybody, but I kind of assumed he'd tell his boyfriend."

"He's good at keeping the secrets that need to be kept." Puck leaned in close to Matt. "What's going on, man?"

Matt hesitated, then beckoned the two of them to follow him upstairs into his bedroom. It was definitely bigger than any of the bedrooms at Kurt's house. Finn found himself eyeing the space speculatively.  _My drums would fit in here._

"I wish I could have told you about this earlier," Matt said. He sat on the floor, and they joined him. He looked even more of a wreck than he had that afternoon, his eyes dark and hollow. "We didn't want to risk it getting out, but… jeez, Puck, when I found out about you and Kurt, I wanted to tell you so bad. But it's really important this stay quiet."

Puck looked at Finn. "Okay? I mean, yeah. Absolutely. We won't tell anybody."

"I trust you." He sighed. "There's a guy. A man. He's… well, we shouldn't have been doing anything together, but it got serious real quickly, and —"

"Wait, wait," said Finn. He looked closely at Matt. "You're saying you and a guy—?"

"Finn," Puck cut him off, aggravated. "He's trying to tell us something. Give him a minute before you bug him about not coming out sooner?"

"Yeah." Matt looked even more uncomfortable. "I didn't want my parents finding out, or anybody in our church, but… it's a little late for that now, so. Here I am." He shrugged, staring at his hands. "My family's moving to Philadelphia, trying to shut the rumors down before they start. And they got him fired."

"Your guy?" asked Puck. Matt nodded. "You think we'd know who he was?"

"Yeah," Matt said quietly. "You'll know, when he doesn't come back to school."

Finn sat helplessly across from Matt, watching Puck put a comforting hand on his shoulder. All he could think about was Carl.

_This could happen,_  he thought, with a thread of panic.  _Somebody could find out, and Carl would be ruined, and he'd have to move away. He'd lose his clients, and they'd lose him. And so would I._

"My… my friend told me he doesn't really care about me," Matt said. "That he's just been using me, and I've just been a stupid kid. But I think he does. I think it was… we could have had something amazing. Now I don't know if I'll ever see him again."

"You could still," Puck said. "Even if he doesn't tell you where he'll be, you could find him, tell him how you feel."

"Life's more complicated for grown-ups," said Finn. "They can't just think about their feelings. It doesn't mean he doesn't love you."

Matt didn't look like he was going to actually cry until Finn said the words  _love you,_ but then he lost it. Puck awkwardly patted his back while he struggled to get himself under control.

"I'm gonna check on Sarah," Finn said, getting to his feet. He slipped through the door and paused in the dark hallway, his heart racing. He felt vaguely sick. It was rude to leave Matt in the middle of his confession, but he wasn't sure he could hear any more.

Sarah was sitting on the top step of the stairs, looking down at the open foyer and the living room beyond. The carpet was white, and spotless. He sat down beside her.

"You're done looking?" he asked. She nodded. "You find what you were looking for?"

"It's bigger." She rested her head on her folded arms atop her knees. "I don't know. It's a house. Does it have all the stuff in it we want, the stuff that would make it a home for all of us? Probably not. It'd be better than what we have, though."

Finn nodded. "Maybe better is what we get."

"Maybe better is a fucking cop-out," Sarah snapped.

They sat there until Finn's mom and Burt returned to the foyer, shaking hands again with Mrs. Rutherford. "We'll be in touch," said his mom. It didn't just sound like a brush-off.

Finn held his phone in his hands as the five of them drove back to the Hummel house. He'd already talked to Blaine earlier, apologized for not being able to meet that night for their usual Wednesday get-together, but Blaine had told him he had a prior commitment anyway.

Carl would be in the middle of his dress rehearsal, playing the character of Enjolras. Finn didn't really know much about the musical Les Misérables, but he'd heard Carl rehearse a little, and he sounded way better than Finn had ever known he could sing. But then, he didn't really know very much about Carl, did he? If they'd had a  _real_  relationship, he could have been sitting in the back of the auditorium, cheering for him. He could have been there to hang out with the cast afterward. That was never going to happen.

"Did you get a chance to look around, Finn?" his mom asked. "It's a nice house. And Kurt was right, it's a good price."

"I guess?" said Finn. He realized he was gripping the phone hard enough to break it, and he made himself take a deep breath and relax. "Sure. It's — it's nice."

"If we wanted to put a bid on it —" she said, but Burt put a hand on hers.

"Let's give it a few days, okay?" he said. "It's a big decision. I want to talk to Kurt before we talk about bidding on anything. He's got the most invested in this."

"What do you mean?" his mom asked.

"This house. My house." Burt let go of her hand. "It was Elizabeth's house. All the memories Kurt's got of his mom, they're all in our house. Maybe I'm ready to let them go, but he's got to get to that point himself before we even think about moving. I'll talk to him when he gets home."

His mom nodded slowly. "All right."

Finn went into Puck's room when they got home. Puck watched him, then followed him in and closed the door.

"Jesus," said Finn unhappily. "Matt. Did you see that coming?"

Puck shrugged. "I'm just assuming everybody's got some gay in them until they tell me differently. I didn't know anything about him and his guy, though. What a fucking mess."

"They can hear everything we're doing in here," Finn said. He paced the space between the window and the door. "We probably shouldn't… do anything until everybody's asleep."

Puck nodded, still watching. "No Patrick tonight?"

"He's busy. But I shouldn't need — I mean, I've got you right here." Finn reached for Puck, pulling him close enough to hug him. He put his arms around him from behind, holding Puck's arms at his sides, and felt Puck respond, quivering.

"I know," he said, his breathing a little labored. "You don't have to convince me. But you only get to see him sometimes. I know how it is."

"You know, because of Adam?"

"I know how it is to want somebody  _especially."_  Puck settled in against Finn's body. "And I know when you don't get Carl, you want Patrick more."

"That's kind of fucked up," Finn muttered. Puck turned his head, far enough to look him in the eye.

"You always tell me it's not fucked up to need what I need. So what's wrong with what  _you_  need?"

Finn let Puck go, and sat down on his bed with a sigh. Puck sat down right next to him, putting an arm around his waist.

"When Carl tells me what to do," he began, then paused. "Are you sure this isn't going to be weird for you?"

"Fuck that," Puck said, waving it away. "I can still be your best friend, no matter what else I am for you. Just talk. I'm not gonna judge."

Finn closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of Puck next to him. "He gave me that present for my birthday. The box. You know what I'm doing with that."

"I know enough," Puck replied. "The different sized plugs. I know you're wearing them at school sometimes. I know you take them out whenever we do anything that gets you hard."

"It's… not supposed to be sexual. It's discipline. I'm learning to control my impulses." He smiled wryly. "Which isn't always easy, when you're around, doing everything I say."

"Oh, yeah?" Puck sounded pleased. "I like being a temptation. Not that I want to fuck up your training."

"You don't have to worry about that. I'm in control." He squeezed Puck's knee. "But when he's not around, I'm supposed to do what I should do, even if he's not there to tell me."

"You're good at that, though. You always were. Doing the right things even when you didn't have to."

"I always  _have_  to," Finn said. "Nobody has to be watching for me to know that. But…" He shifted on the bed. "I  _want_  him to be there, telling me. I miss that, when he's not around."

"He's got stuff to do?"

Finn sighed. "He's dating Ms. Pillsbury."

"Oh, shit." Puck laughed, amazed. "Uh… you think they're —?"

"It's none of my business," Finn said sharply. "Or yours. And I'm trying not to think about it."

"Finn," Puck said. "He gave you a  _collar._  He's not going to suddenly decide you don't matter."

"No." Finn shook his head. "I know. It's more like… I don't know how responsible I can be when I feel like this about somebody. And I don't do so well when I can't be responsible. What if what happened with Matt happens with us? We'd be screwed, and so would he. He'd have to leave town. What about Angela? Davis?"

"I can't think about all of that," Puck said. "I'm sticking with how I feel. Dude, I'm pretty sure you should trust that."

Finn hugged Puck tight, suddenly, making him gasp.

"I don't know what to trust right now," he said rapidly. "I'm feeling so out of control, and I hate it. And I'm sorry I'm even telling you this. Not really the kind of thing you're supposed to tell your… you know."

Puck laughed. "You can say it. Nobody's listening."

"My slave." Finn whispered it, but Puck responded anyway, shivering in his arms. Finn felt his own tingling response. "I shouldn't like that so much. And can you be my boyfriend and my slave and my best friend all at the same time?"

"I don't know. I'm pretty sure we figured out best friend a long time ago, and boyfriend's going all right." He moved back to look into Finn's eyes, his expression so trusting. "You're doing a good job with the slave part."

"You think so?" Finn had to smile. "Even though I have no idea what I'm doing?"

"Maybe not, but you're  _doing_  it. I told you, trusting your feelings, your instinct."

"Yeah?" Finn reached under Puck's pillow and pulled out his collar, watching Puck's eyes dilate as he held it up. "I think I have some  _feelings_  about what to do with you, wearing this, that might keep you quiet."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song credits:
> 
> "It's My Life" by Bon Jovi, copyright 2000.  
> "Bad Romance" by Lady Gaga, copyright 2009.  
> "Shout It Out Loud" by KISS, copyright 1976.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt goes to Dave Karofsky's house to make a deal. Finn and Puck have a realization. Kurt talks to his dad about moving out of the house, and he and Puck try to reach Adam. Will talks to Shelby about Puck. Glee attempts to name the baby. Kurt brings Finn back to the house to show him his interior decorating skills, and Burt overhears their conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might recognize elements of the conversation between Kurt and Dave in the first scene here. It draws on a combination of scenes from episodes 2x06 Never Been Kissed and 2x20 Prom King, because the relationship between Dave and Kurt has been accelerated in the context of the Donutverse. Dave might be angry, but he's not nearly as repressed here as he was in canon — and Kurt's in far better a position to demand things from him. 
> 
> No warnings for this chapter. 
> 
> -amy

Kurt had never felt as naked as he did that evening, standing in front of Dave Karofsky's house wearing sweatpants and a heather gray hoodie. The rain was light, but he waited on the front porch for long enough that by the time Dave opened the door, he was more than a little damp.

"Okay if I come in?" he asked. Dave looked up and down the dark street, then held open the door for Kurt.

The entryway was elegant, all glass and tile and what looked like actual marble accents. Dave held out a hand, peering stiffly at him through black-rimmed glasses. "Can I take your jacket?"

Kurt unzipped it, handing it over. He wasn't sure why he was surprised to discover Dave Karofsky wore contact lenses.

"I didn't know if you were going to let me in," he said.

"Well, that makes two of us." Dave hung it on a hanger and tucked it into the closet. "My dad's playing bridge tonight. I'm here by myself. I think if I'd had to explain why you were here, I might not have done it."

"That's honest," Kurt nodded. "I appreciate that. I promise I won't stay long."

"Don't do me any favors."

Dave was fidgety, but he led Kurt into the kitchen, sitting down at the kitchen table where he'd evidently been doing his chemistry homework.

"I think what we've been doing isn't working," Kurt said. "And now, not only do you know things about me, I know things about you. Something has got to give."

Dave rolled his eyes and sighed, picking up his pencil and turning to the next page in his textbook.

"Hey!" Kurt shouted. "I am talking to you."

"How could I miss it, the way you're yelling in my freaking ear." Dave put a finger in his ear and wiggled it, wincing. "Ouch."

"What is your problem?" he demanded.

Dave scowled at him. "What?"

"You heard me. What are you so scared of?"

"Besides the whole school finding out that I like guys, but apparently I can't even hold the attention of one of them?" Dave sneered, pushing his glasses up on his nose. "Or maybe discovering that I'm not even as appealing as our football coach, who has the personal habits of a baboon?"

Kurt paused. Both of those actually sounded pretty scary to him. "Yeah, well…"

"Oh, how about my mom finding out that her son's a fag and blaming her divorce on me? I can totally see her doing that. And what about my best friend deciding he's going to beat me up because I've been lying to him all my life? Or at least since seventh grade, for sure." Dave paused, stroking his chin pensively. "And cockroaches."

"Cockroaches?"

"Scared to death of 'em," said Dave.

Kurt couldn't help but laugh. Dave's eyes narrowed immediately, and Kurt said, "No, I'm not laughing at you — I was just thinking of another conversation where I asked somebody this same question."

"Yeah? What'd he say?"

"Spiders," said Kurt, _"and being alone, and being ordinary."_

Adam had also said,  _six months ago, I would have added 'never falling in love,' but now I've done that._  Kurt's face must have shown something of what he was feeling, because Dave scowled again.

"Not that you'd know anything about being alone  _or_  being ordinary." He crossed his arms. "Yeah, I know  _all_  about what you and Puckerman and Hudson have been doing behind closed doors at McKinley. I could get you three in  _so_  much trouble."

"Well?" Kurt nodded, stifling the threads of panic. "Why haven't you?"

He huffed. "Because I don't out people. Even people who deserve it like Coach Fuck-You-Over, or your boyfriends."

"Or me?"

Dave avoided his eyes. "Sure. Fine, whatever. You too."

"No?" Kurt moved in closer, watching him fidget. "Why not me? I mean, why Finn and Noah and not me?"

He shrugged. "Because you never did anything to me."

"And they did?"

Dave let out a loud sigh. "Well, I don't know, let me see. If you count ignoring somebody who was  _supposed_  to be your best friend and totally ditching him to play with somebody else. Or making fun of him in the locker room. Or —"

"Okay, okay, I got it." Kurt put up a hand, and Dave fell silent. "If you're going to go back that far, I can think of plenty of things that Noah has done. You don't have to name them all."

" _Noah,"_  snickered Dave. "You think he did that stuff? I was talking about Finn.  _Noah_  mostly pretended I didn't exist."

Kurt smiled to himself. "I think that was likely because, to him, you didn't. The only person he noticed was Finn, even back then."

Dave opened his mouth and shut it again, obviously startled. He fiddled with his pencil. "The two of them —?"

"Oh, yeah," Kurt sighed. "Very much the two of them."

"But you and Puckerman —" Dave began, then cut himself off. "Never mind. It's none of my business."

"I think you might as well ask whatever you want to know. Since we're here, and you already seem to know so much."

"I don't have any questions," Dave muttered. And then, almost immediately, "See, I don't get that. How can they like each other and still be with you? You're not exactly their type."

Kurt had resolved to stay rational and compassionate through this whole conversation, but it was hard not to hear that as a slam. "I don't know if either of them really have a type. They've both had boyfriends and girlfriends. Age and gender doesn't seem to matter."

Dave thought about that, then nodded. "What about you?"

"I like boys. I tried kissing Brittany once, and it was mostly… a little strange."

"You made out with Brittany?" Dave laughed. "She's one weird chick."

"She's her own person, that's for sure. We've been friends since we were kids. I live across the street from her." Kurt kept his tone casual, watching Dave relax a little. "She was safe. And even though I was pretty sure I knew what I liked before I kissed her, it was… good confirmation."

"Well, I've done stuff with plenty of girls."

"And?" Kurt prompted.

For a moment, Kurt thought Dave might say  _none of your business, faggot._ The look on his face certainly communicated that clearly enough. Kurt just waited, letting the question hang in the air. Then Dave shook his head, and his mouth formed a little perplexed smile. It was so unlike any expression Kurt had ever seen on his face that he smiled back.

"I think it's like abstract art," Dave said. "I mean,  _girls._  I can see it, kind of, when I squint? But I don't really  _understand._  Because obviously, everybody else seems to think they're amazing. It's all I hear in the locker room, at lunch, pretty much everywhere. Girls. And I'm just…" He threw up his hands. "I might as well be looking at a fucking Kandinsky."

Kurt nodded. "Far be it for me to tell anybody what they should or should not find attractive," he said. "Everyone likes what they like. But I'm right with you there. Aesthetically, yes, perhaps, but that's as far as it goes with girls."

"And I feel kind of bad about it," Dave went on. "Like, I'm sorry? I should be able to, I don't know, transcend boundaries of gender and physical form and just find the person inside attractive, but…" He hesitated, seeming to realize exactly what he was saying and who he was saying it to, and closed down again.

"No, I get it," said Kurt softly. "I don't think that's something you have to feel bad about."

Dave gave him a mildly incredulous look. "I don't have to feel bad about being — something most people despise?"

"I'm not going to say it's easy. Or tell you when or how you should come out. But if you take action, you're more likely to be able to have control over how that goes." He didn't look away from Dave. "I know how it feels to keep secrets to protect others. Sometimes you don't have a choice."

"But you think I do."

Kurt shook his head. "I don't know you well enough to be able to tell that. It's obvious you've thought things through, probably over and over again. You're clearly smart enough to understand the ramifications of your actions. Now you just have to decide."

Dave scoffed. "Decide what?"

"How much of an asshole you're willing to be."

"Oh yeah?" He was getting worked up again, his hands curling into fists. Kurt tried to keep his eyes off them. "You think I owe anybody  _anything?_  When I've got  _nobody_  on my side?"

Kurt surged forward. "You've got  _me,"_  he said, tapping his own chest. Dave's eyes widened. "And that's worth a lot. You can treat me as badly as you want, but I'm not going to return the favor."

Dave looked like he was close to snapping, his breath coming heavy and his face pale. "What makes you think I would ever deserve something like that?"

"I don't know, David," said Kurt. "I'm curious myself. You want to find out what it would feel like to owe me that kind of debt? Or maybe…" He stepped in close enough to feel the heat of Dave's skin, and dropped his voice to a hiss. "Maybe I'm here to collect for everyone else you ever teased, or hit, or shoved into a locker because you were too scared to show them who you really are."

"Do  _not_  push me, Hummel," Dave said, brandishing his fist. Kurt could see the sweat beading Dave's forehead behind his glasses.

"You gonna hit me? Do it." He turned his cheek. "It's not going to change who you are. You can't punch the gay out of yourself, no matter how much damage you inflict on others."

"Get the fuck out of my face," Dave said, but the demand came out like a whisper.

"So the way I see it, you've got two choices," Kurt went on. "Choice one, I go home and never tell anybody about this conversation. We go on as adversaries."

He held his breath.

"Or?" Dave managed.

"Or right here, right now…" Kurt leveled his gaze at Dave. "You apologize."

For about five seconds, as Dave stared back at him, Kurt had no idea how he was going to respond. Then Dave blinked, and went on blinking, his eyes filling with tears. He pulled his glasses off and rubbed a forearm across his face.

"God, Kurt," he said, his voice breaking, "I am so freaking sorry."

Kurt almost wanted to hug him, but he figured that would be pushing things a little far. This had already been an evening of breakthroughs. He nodded slowly, exhaling.

"Apology accepted," Kurt said.

Dave mopped at his face with both hands. Kurt wished he had a handkerchief with him.  _Another reason to never wear sweatpants: no pockets._

"So," said Dave uncomfortably. "Now what?"

Kurt was prepared for this, at least. "Now we pretend that nothing has changed, at school. You keep treating me like crap, and I keep fighting back."

Dave shook his head, grimacing. "What? I don't — how's that going to help?"

"It's going to preserve your reputation, until you feel ready to come out on your own terms. I told you I wasn't going to push you. It's what Noah and I did, until… well, he wanted to come out before I did, but I wouldn't let him. And then he left town, and…" He waved a hand. "That's ancient history."

"So you want me to… what? Fake-bully you?"

"Unless you can tell me you're ready to go back to school tomorrow and tell Azimio the truth."

Dave chewed on his lip, and finally sighed. "You really think I can pull this off."

"I'm sure of it," Kurt said. The Dave Karofsky he'd seen emerging from Matt Rutherford's backyard was completely capable of pretending to be anybody he wanted to be. Kurt reached out and put a hand on Dave's arm. Dave stared at it, then looked up at Kurt. "I'm really sorry about what happened with Matt."

Dave flushed, looking away. "That… it wasn't even important. Not compared to... there's another guy. Used to be my friend, maybe my best friend. I've known him since I was a kid. I ran into him this week, and I just… he said he was…" He shook his head. "Fuck."

"You don't have to tell me."

"Yeah, I think I'd better quit while I'm ahead." Dave rubbed his eyes again. "Jesus. Kurt, I'm not really going to beat you up. I mean… anymore. I'm not going to beat you up anymore. Really."

"I know." Kurt squeezed his arm before letting it go. "And I'm really not going to push you to say anything."

"What about your  _boyfriends?"_  Dave said it like an epithet. "You're going to keep secrets from them?"

Kurt wasn't quite sure how to answer that, but he kept his expression even. "They won't tell anybody either. Azimio and your parents and everybody at school will find out when  _you're_  ready. They won't hear it from me, or any of us."

Dave nodded slowly. "And what if I'm never ready?"

"One day at a time, David." He turned and headed for the door.

"Kurt," Dave said. Kurt looked back at him, at his tortured face. "That time, in freshman year…"

He stopped, fidgeting. Kurt gave him a brief nod. "You're talking about when I broke my wrist."

"Yeah," he whispered. "I really didn't… I didn't mean to hurt you like that. I didn't even know. When I saw you the next day with that cast on, I…" He sighed. "Whatever. You don't need to hear how much it sucked for  _me._ I kept coming after you anyway."

"Why?" Kurt asked. He tried to ask it calmly, without accusation.  _Keep it direct._  "If you felt bad about it, why'd you do it?"

"Easier to hate you than to hate myself. And then when I found out about Puckerman and Hudson…"

Kurt cocked his head. "Tell me how that happened?"

Dave rolled his eyes. "I was getting a tire fixed, and I saw you and Puckerman, through the front window. He showed up at your dad's garage. He brought you dinner. It totally pissed me off. Like, how does Puckerman get  _everything_  and I get nothing?"

Kurt smiled, remembering the salmon  _en croute_  and strawberries with double Devon cream. "We weren't even together then." He decided he'd better not tack on the sentence  _I was helping Noah get with Finn_.

"Yeah, well." Dave's eyes dropped shut, as though the conversation were exhausting him. "I talked to Azimio about you that night. Like, I couldn't say anything about Puckerman, so I just talked about you, how awful you were. And that next day he —"

"Oh," Kurt said, with a shock. "He caught me after school. He and Rick, they really messed me up that time."

Dave winced, his eyes still shut. "I know. He told me all about it. You looked fine the next day, but I figured it was makeup."

"It was." Kurt looked at Dave's tense, waiting face. "Why are you telling me this? You think I'm going to decide you're somehow worse than I already thought you were?"

"Because you deserve to know everything," Dave burst out. "You might as well, before you start pretending to be nice to me."

"I'm not actually pretending, David." Kurt shook his head. "So that happened, and everything else. And then… you stopped bullying me." Dave looked at the desk, nodding. "Why? Why stop all of a sudden."

"Because you  _changed._ " Dave shifted, more perplexed than angry. "Back in January, it was like you stopped being scared. You didn't even seem to  _notice_  when I was around anymore."

"No," said Kurt. Thinking about Adam carried with it a difference kind of pain, but it still made him smile. "It was… perspective. I got a glimpse of what might be possible for me someday, after I get out of Lima. I'm not looking for anyone to save me; I can do that myself. But if there were actually such a thing as a guardian angel, I acquired one then. I  _wasn't_  scared anymore."

Dave looked like he might want to yell again, the way he was scowling resentfully at Kurt, but he nodded. "I could tell. I was pretty pissed at you, too, for that."

"And now you're not."

Dave shrugged. "Can't promise I won't  _ever_  be pissed at you again, Hummel. You piss me off on a daily basis. But I promise now at least whatever I do about it, it won't leave any bruises."

"I can deal with bruises," Kurt assured him. "And I can handle you yelling at me, if you feel like you need to do that." Dave drew back as Kurt came closer, but he just reached for a pad of note paper on Dave's counter. "I'm going to give you my phone number. If you're feeling angry enough to start beating up some other boy, or yourself, for that matter, I want you to text or call me."

Dave watched in baffled silence while Kurt neatly wrote his number on the paper and handed it to him. "Is this for church? You trying to be  _my_  guardian angel or something?"

"No," Kurt said, laughing. "No angels here. Just one human who's putting an end to this fight. Agreed?"

After a moment, Dave nodded. "Agreed."

* * *

The piles of boxes around them had reached epic proportions. Puck brought in the IKEA boxes from the bed of Burt's truck and left them propped against the wall next to Sarah's room.

"Do you know what he bought?" he asked Finn. Finn shook his head.

"It makes me wonder if he's really thought things through. It's a lot of money to spend on decorating if we're just planning on leaving."

"You really want to stand between Kurt and decorating?" Puck asked, with one eyebrow raised. "I think you'll lose."

Finn wedged himself through a stack of boxes and found a spot on the green couch, on the short leg of the L. He moved over to make enough room for Puck, who flopped down next to him, sweaty from carrying boxes.

"Wasn't Kurt supposed to be home by now?" he asked.

"I don't even know where he was going." Finn reached over into the half-open lid of one of the boxes and pulled out Puck's crayon drawing. Puck groaned when he saw it.

"Fuck, man, why do you still have that?"

"I like it," Finn said defensively. He set it on the coffee table. The paper it had been stuck to with leftover sticky tape shifted free, and Finn picked it up instead. It was the flow chart he'd sketched the other day, with boxes bearing Shelby and Davis and Jesse and Rachel's names.

Puck took it out of his hands, looking it over. "Finn…"

"There was something about Shelby's announcement that got me thinking," Finn said. He tapped the Carl box, sitting out there alone in the corner. "I couldn't figure out what was bothering me about it."

"Oh," said Puck. He sounded almost frightened. "Oh, fuck. I can't believe I didn't realize this before. I think I was so focused on Shelby and her part that I didn't really think…  _Finn."_

"What?" Finn said. "C'mon, man, you're scaring me."

Puck slowly reached out and picked up the Sharpie they'd been using to mark boxes from the table. He looked at Finn with agonized eyes.

" _What?"_  Finn repeated.

"Shelby had two kids. She had Jesse with Davis when she was in college, and then she had another kid after that: Rachel, a couple years later." He pointed at each name in turn. "And Carl and Davis got married."

"Yeah, kind of. They had a ceremony. There's an empty wine bottle on Carl's windowsill in the kitchen from the ceremony, in 1995. Almost a year after Rachel was born."

"But Shelby told me she was in a triad with the two of them, for a little while. That had to be before she had Rachel. I think… Finn, she had a kid with  _Carl."_

While Finn sat and watched, numb with shock, Puck crossed out the box that read "2 dads" and connected the Shelby box to the Carl box, extending the line to connect with Rachel's.

"Shelby is Rachel's mom," Finn whispered. "And Carl is… oh my god."

Finn scrambled to his feet, heading for the door to the garage. Puck didn't try to stop him, and he wouldn't have listened even if he had. He ignored the light rain, and the headlights of Kurt's Navigator returning from wherever he'd been, and trudged out into the night to sort out his thoughts.

He didn't even consider calling Carl.

* * *

Kurt struggled out of his wet hoodie and hung it on the hook by the door, letting it dry. Before he could even announce he was home, his dad was there in the foyer.

"We went over to look at the Rutherford's house while you were out," said his dad.

"Oh." Kurt chuckled, looking over his shoulder. "That'll teach me to leave the house. What —?"

"Carole liked it," he said shortly. "And it's priced low enough that she thinks we should put a bid on it, even before her house sells."

"Oh," Kurt said again. He wasn't sure what else to say. His mind was still full of the conversation with Dave. With an effort, he tried to remember what the flyer had said about Matt's house. "I didn't really get a good look at it. Just the backyard."

His dad nodded. "I'm sure it's fine. Which seems to be everybody's response, even Sarah's, that it's  _fine._ " He looked sideways at Kurt. "It's a pretty sudden action, so I'm just checking in, so you're aware of what might happen. We might actually wind up moving out of this house before the end of the month."

Kurt reached out and touched the wall behind him with one hand, not for stability, just a friendly touch. "I think I've been preparing for that."

His dad put an arm around him. "I know you're happy about the guys moving back in, even if it's complicated. You'll tell me if you think it's getting out of hand again, all right?"

"Promise," he agreed. He leaned against his dad, his weight comforting.

"You didn't say much at dinner. How'd the Gaga thing go today at school?"

Kurt smiled. "We made a statement. Although I suppose it's up to the everyone else to decide how to interpret it. It's amazing to realize how much people hear, even when you're actually not saying very much."

His dad nodded. "Well, what did you think you were saying?"

"That being yourself is okay, even when it's a little out there. That everyone should be allowed to express themselves in their own ways, as long as they're not infringing on the rights of others." He thought about the way Dave had looked in his glasses - such a small change, with such a big effect. "And that it's okay to have many ways to be in the world, and all of them are valid."

"Sounds about what teenagers should do," his dad agreed. "Be many ways. Like trying on costumes, uniforms, until they find the one or ones that fit."

Kurt sighed and settled in closer against his dad. "I think I started repairing an old bridge tonight. It's not really even my bridge, but… it's one I never considered fixing, until it was suddenly possible. I hope I'm not getting in over my head."

"You, Kurt? You're actually noticing you might be getting in over your head? Maybe I should be worried." He gave him a nudge. "And you're taking this possible move better than I expected."

Kurt nodded. "When Finn was throwing a fit about his dad's chair, I thought I knew what the answer was. I thought he should push himself to move on. But now, I think that wasn't it."

"No?"

"No," said Kurt. "I don't plan to ever let go of Mom. I just don't want to forget her. I want to tell stories about her, to Noah and Finn, to take her with us wherever we go."

His dad interlaced his fingers with Kurt's. "I think that sounds like a pretty good plan."

When Kurt went downstairs to find the others, the only person there was Sarah, sitting on her bed sketching. The blueprints were rolled up and put away. She glanced up quickly as he came in.

"Where —" Kurt began, but she cut him off, talking rapidly.

"Finn ran out earlier, before I got home. Noah's been waiting in the garage. You'd better go after him before he takes the Navigator without asking."

"He wouldn't do that, after what happened with the tires," Kurt said, but he was already heading for the door.

It wasn't quite warm enough outside to prevent Kurt from shivering in just a t-shirt, even if he wasn't all that damp. He reached over and switched on the garage light, and nearly tripped over Puck, sitting right by his feet on the concrete step.

"Sweetheart?" He sat down next to him, putting an arm around his shoulder. Puck looked almost as wrecked as Dave had earlier, but he leaned into Kurt with an unhappy sigh. "What's going on? Did you and Finn have a fight?"

"No. Finn — he found out something about Rachel. Something that kind of… well, I don't really know what he's going to do."

"Is it something I should know?" Kurt asked carefully.

"I think I'd better let him tell you." Puck focused on his own hands. "Can I take the Navigator? I want to talk to Shelby."

"Noah, it's late, and that's a long drive. You can arrange a time to see her another day."

"Yes, sir," he mumbled. "You don't think… maybe Adam might be around tonight?"

"We could try him." Kurt took Puck's hand and gave him a gentle tug. "You could call Shelby, if you have something you need to talk to her about."

He shook his head. "I think this is something I have to actually say to her in person."

"Well, then get ready for bed and then we'll try Adam together." He gave him a little push toward the bathroom, while Sarah watched from her own room. "I'll be there in a minute."

As he'd suspected, his father agreed to sign him out of school the next day, once he explained what he was planning to do with Sarah's room and all the IKEA furniture. But he didn't mention Finn being gone. He didn't have any idea what that was about. Finn wasn't answering his texts, and when Kurt called his number, it went to voice mail.

"We're here," he said into the phone. "Just come back, and we can deal with whatever's going on."

Adam's phone went to voice mail too. Puck climbed into bed next to Kurt as he put the phone to his ear.

"Wherever could you be?" he said, keeping his voice playful. "Lisbon? Paris? Tokyo? Ah, no, I recall seeing a commercial about you appearing on American Idol next week as a mentor for the top nine. What an honor. We're here, in my very boring bedroom — though I'm planning to make Sarah's bedroom not nearly so boring tomorrow. I'll send you before and after shots. And speaking of shots, I'm sending you the video of Noah and Finn and the rest of the boys singing KISS in full regalia. They were tremendous. You'll have to decide for yourself if Gaga beats 70s glam rock. Here's Noah."

He passed the phone to Puck and kept his hand on his wrist while Puck spoke. "I keep hearing rumblings about your tour, man. Is it happening or not? You know we'd keep your secret. Big stuff going down here. Give us a call, okay?" He shied away from Kurt's frown as he handed the phone back. "What?"

"We love you," Kurt added. "Whenever you have a second, just leave a message. Hope you're hanging in there." He thumbed off the phone, intensifying his glare. "What do you mean, _what?_  You don't tell him you love him anymore?"

"Kind of pointless when nobody's there to listen, isn't it?" Puck rolled in toward him. "He's busy. He doesn't need to hear that."

"That's  _exactly_  what he needs to hear. Finn said Timmy said he's having a terrible time of it, no matter how chipper he looks on television." He hugged Puck tight. "I know you miss him. I do too. But he misses us just as much."

"I guess." Puck didn't sound convinced.

They waited another half hour before turning off the light, but before either of them could fall asleep, Kurt's phone lit up with a text. He read it aloud for Puck's benefit:  _"I'm staying at my house tonight, baby. See you at school tomorrow."_

"No, he won't," Puck said. "Guess he forgot about your redecorating holiday." He rolled over onto his back and looked up at the ceiling.

"You can tell me, if you want to," Kurt said gently. Puck sighed.

"Carole wants to buy Matt Rutherford's house."

Kurt was pretty sure that wasn't the big deal news Puck was dealing with in his head, but he wasn't going to rush it. "My dad said everybody thought it was fine."

"Better than I can afford," Puck said. "You know I don't give a shit where we live."

That wasn't exactly true either, but Kurt let it stand. "We can arrange alternate plans for dinner tomorrow night if you want to go to Shelby's."

"Yeah, maybe. Thanks. Quinn's starting to go to the doctor every week now to check if my kid is cooked enough, so I'm going with her on Friday. You wanna come?"

The idea of seeing Quinn spread out on a big steel table made Kurt feel more than a little uncomfortable. "I think I'll pass. Mercedes would go with you, though."

It seemed that Puck fell asleep fine, but Kurt woke up in the middle of the night to Puck's soft moans and whimpers. When he wrapped him up and held him, murmuring comforting things into his ear, Puck took a long time to get quiet again. He wasn't saying any words that made sense, aside from the occasional  _no_  and  _can't._

The phone had another text on it, this one from Adam:  _On the set for Idol tomorrow, watch me next week. I liked the Gaga, but the KISS was amazing. Loving you both so much._  Kurt read it three or four times before setting the phone aside and settling back down to sleep again.

* * *

Will made sure to call Carmel and let the main office secretary know he was coming, well in advance, and to set up an actual appointment with Shelby for the afternoon. The last thing he wanted was for her to think he was trying to take her by surprise. These weren't tactics he was employing. When he'd spoken with Toby, his advice had been clear:  _Just talk to her. Let her know how you feel, and why. She'll listen._

He waited outside Shelby's office until she called, "Come in, Will."

He opened the door and took a seat across from her at her desk. She straightened her back and faced him directly, her expression composed.

"You've had a busy week," he said. "My students have told me about some of the things you're working on. How's your Gaga going?"

"Don't ask," she said, shaking her head. "It was an effort to stop us from bogging down in the details of the pieces we've been practicing for two months, but mostly it was just confusing. These kids don't understand the difference between theatricality and spectacle."

"Mine did an admirable job with the theatricality, especially the boys, but I'm sure the show choir rule book would have something to say about us performing a hard rock number at Regionals with only five of our members participating. The boys, for some reason, weren't too enthusiastic about doing Gaga." He made a dismissive gesture. "It doesn't matter. We'll be ready next week."

"I know why you called," she said. "And don't worry about it. My reconnection with Rachel is not some kind of plot to mess with you guys before Regionals."

Will shook his head. "I'm not worried about Regionals. It's Puck. May I speak frankly?"

If she was surprised, she covered it well. She nodded.

"He's struggling. You saw it, the way he lost control. He's not so different from the best of us: dramatic, strong-willed, wildly talented."

Now she was smiling. "Go on?"

"But he's not  _hard_. Not like he pretends to be. He's fragile, overemotional. And he's clearly convinced himself that you are as committed to this — whatever it is the two of you are doing — as he is. And I don't think you are."

Shelby brushed her hair briskly out of her face and looked away. "He's not prepared to have a baby daughter."

He looked at her carefully. "Are  _you?"_

Her smile was both playful and self-deprecating. Will thought she was either covering very well or being as honest as she knew how to be. "I can't have any more kids. There were issues a few years back, then some surgery, and that's that. I really wanted a daughter. That's why it was so important for me to make that connection with Rachel - so I could make sure she  _knew_  that I was ready to move on, to do it right this time." She gave a determined shake of her head. "I didn't want my baby back. Rachel's an adult now; she doesn't need me, as much as she might want me. But Noah… he  _does."_

Will sighed. "Shelby… I can't tell you what to do. But if you care about him at all? You have to tell him what you just told me. Whatever he thinks is going on between the two of you —"

"Nothing is going on," she said sharply. She put up a hand. "Yes. I care about him very much. But that's not the kind of relationship we have. He's as much a boy as he is a man, and he has  _so_ much growing to do before he's done. Just like I did, when I was pregnant as a teenager. He seems to think he can handle this parenting thing — and god help me, I think he might be able to do it — but it's going to be at the expense of whatever piece of his freedom he has left. I don't want him to have to give that up entirely."

"You really want to…" Will didn't even know how to say it. "Commit to raising a child with him?"

She waited a long time before answering. Will couldn't tell if she was struggling to keep her calm, or refrain from crying, or if she was just thinking carefully about her answer.

"We complement one another well," she said at last. "I don't think I could tolerate living with him. But weekends? Partial summers? Shared custody?" She nodded. "That's what he needs. He has plenty of adults in his life, both friends and lovers. He doesn't have someone like me: an adult woman, with whom he's  _not_  involved, and not  _planning_  to get involved, who wants to parent as much as he does. Do you understand why I think we can be of help to one another here?"

Will didn't know if she was wearing him down or actually starting to make sense. "Well, what about the legalities of this kind of arrangement? Do you even know what's possible?"

She nodded. "Fortunately, my ex-husband is a lawyer. He'll handle the fine print. If Noah agrees, I'll have him take care of the paperwork. Quinn's due date is in mid-May, long after Nationals is over. I'll arrange to take the last month of school off."

"It sounds like you've thought of everything."

He must have sounded particularly sardonic, because Shelby's mouth tightened, and she visibly prickled.

"I am not trying to take advantage of Noah," she said firmly. "Not that it's any of your business, although I laud you for caring for your students. This is about me, and him, and his daughter. While I don't believe in a higher power, this feels like a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and I'm not going to let it go by."

Will acknowledged her with a nod. "Well, you might want to consider talking to the man who's planning to adopt him."

"I've already been in communication with Mr. Hummel," she said, surprising Will. "Although Noah has asked me to refrain from speaking with his birth father. Honestly, in the event I end up running into him socially, I might not be able to keep myself from resorting to violence."

Will managed to control his smile. "That's exactly the thought I always had regarding my fiancé's father. I'm probably fortunate he passed away before I had a chance to punch him in the nose. So you've met Burt Hummel."

"I know  _all_  the boys." Shelby's comment was pointed, and Will nodded, surprised yet again. "Yes. Noah's lifestyle isn't completely unfamiliar to me. He needs time with them, with and without his daughter. That's something I can offer him."

"All right." He sighed, pushing his chair back. She stood with him. "I've said my piece. Will you talk to him?"

"Of course I will," she said. "I was just waiting for the right moment." She reached across the desk and shook his hand. "Good luck at Regionals, Mr. Schuester."

"And you, Ms. Corcoran," said Will.

The first thing he did after he left her office was to text Toby.  _Any chance I could take you out for dinner tonight?_

_Gracious light, Will,_  Toby replied.  _It's almost two-thirty. You got time to drive to Akron before dinner, or are you expecting me to skip my office hours?_

He stopped outside the door labeled  _Mr. Tobias Grey, Fine Arts,_  leaning casually against the wall.  _I'm already in Akron. Take a look out your office door when you have a moment._

Toby opened the door, saw him, and began laughing.

"Come on in," he said, waving him through. Once the door was closed, he swatted him on his arm with a backhanded slap. "You little shit."

Will accepted the swat without comment. "I had an appointment to talk to Shelby about Puck."

"Not about Rachel?" Toby asked.

"Rachel, at least, we're in agreement about. Shelby sees Rachel as grown, and she gave up her parenting rights long ago. Whatever relationship they develop from here will be up to them to decide together. No, Puck's the one I was worried about."

Toby didn't miss a thing. "Was?"

"I'm feeling less worried," he said. "Not completely sold on her idea. But if she's in communication with Puck's foster father, I think it'll be all right." He leaned in and gave Toby a chaste peck on the cheek. "Now, if you don't mind, I'll just sit quietly over here and finish my lesson plans for next week until the bell rings, and then I'll be taking you out for dinner."

Toby's eyes gleamed. "My, aren't we commanding today. How can a fella say no to that?"

* * *

The choir room was still filled with Gaga costumes, even though their performances were over. No one was wearing their KISS costume. Brad took attendance quickly from his piano, frowning at Finn sitting by himself in the corner.

"Mr. Schuester has a meeting," he said, "so that's why he's not here, but… where's Kurt?"

"Kurt has a project," Puck said. He wasn't going to get Kurt in trouble for skipping school to play interior designer.

"We have a project, too," Mercedes spoke up. She looked over at Quinn, smiling. "This baby's coming next month, and she's going to need a name."

"I told you, it's not my call," Quinn said, waving her hand as Puck sat up in outrage. "Don't blame me for this; it was all Mercedes' idea."

"I've got no shortage of Jewish girls' names to choose from," he said. "But I think I've got to see her before knowing if any of them fit her, you know?"

"Aw, come on," Artie said, patting him on the arm. "She's got you and Quinn for parents. She should get named after a song. There's lots of girl names in songs."

"There's that's Annie's Song, by John Denver," Tina said. "Or Cecilia, by Paul Simon."

"Annie is Toby's dog's name," Brad said, shaking his head.

"Toby has a dog?" Mike murmured to Brittany. She shrugged.

"What about Help Me Rhonda, help, help me, Rhonda." Brittany did a little hand jive.

Santana rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on. Anyone who's known Puck for more than two minutes knows exactly where he's going to get his daughter's name from. How many Neil Diamond songs have girls' names in them, Puckerman?"

"A bunch," he said. "There's Cracklin' Rosie."

" _No,"_  said Quinn firmly.

Puck decided to be offended. "Rosie is a great name. It's a rock star name."

"It's an  _alcohol,_  Puck. You want to name our daughter after cheap wine that drunk bums sip out of paper bags?" Quinn tossed her head. "I knew I was right to question your judgment."

"I'm guessing Cherry, Cherry is out, then," Artie said, grinning. Quinn didn't even bother to glare at him.

"There's Sweet Caroline," Rachel said hopefully. "That doesn't have any horrible backstory, does it?"

"He wrote it about Caroline Kennedy, when she was a little kid." Finn had read Puck that tidbit aloud from the Neil Diamond biography he'd gotten Puck for Christmanukkah. "Not in a creepy pedophile way, just… he admired her, thought she was awesome. So, yeah, that wouldn't be bad." He shrugged. "I think I'm gonna have to think about it, guys, but thanks for trying to help."

Brad cleared his throat. "Well, we've got plenty of ground we can cover, even if we don't have a setlist for Sectionals yet. Puck, how about you take your guitar and gather the boys to practice in the auditorium and the girls stay here and practice with me?"

Mike glanced back at Finn, who was trailing them down the hall. "Is he okay?" he whispered to Puck.

"He got some… weird news," Puck said. "I don't think he's up to drumming today."

"We could sing something else. Doesn't KISS have any ballads?"

Puck nodded, grinning. "There's one I heard somebody do on American Idol. Wanna try it?"

"You know I'm not much of a singer," Matt said with a shrug, "but I can back you up, if you teach it to me."

It turned out Artie knew the song, so Puck taught him the chord changes. Finn gave him what looked like a  _this-is-a-spanking-offense_  glare, but he sang along on the chorus, and even managed some pretty nice harmonies.

It was true, it was hard not to try to sound like Adam on the Idol stage as Puck sang the familiar words:

_Beth, I hear you calling_   
_But I can't come home right now_   
_Me and the boys are playing_   
_And we just can't find the sound_   
_Just a few more hours_   
_And I'll be right home to you_   
_I think I hear them calling_   
_Oh, Beth, what can I do  
_ _Beth, what can I do?_

"Isn't Quinn's due date like the middle of May?" Artie asked. "What is she going to do about finals?"

"She said she's planning to come right back to school," Puck said. "I'm taking my daughter home. She's way more important than finals."

"Is that right?" Finn asked mildly.

Puck could hear the words Finn was saying as clearly as if he'd spoken them aloud, but he just nodded. "I don't need school, but she  _will_  need me. And I — "

"Hang on," said Mike, shaking his head. "Are you saying you're dropping out of school?"

"That's not cool, man," Matt said. "Can't you get a babysitter?"

"A babysitter?" Puck echoed. "What do you think I'm planning to do next year? How do you think I'd afford day care? School's not really going to be an option for me. I figured, I could do my GED if I got some help. Carole — uh, Mrs. Hudson said it'd be one thing I could do, if I was going to stay home with my kid."

Finn walked with him out to the parking lot after Glee was over. He was silent for most of it, but then he turned to Puck, looking troubled.

"Kurt's not going to let you drop out of school," he said. "And I'm not either. The GED might work, but I think we should talk to Ms. Pillsbury about other options."

"Carl's girlfriend, you mean?" Puck said. Finn winced.

"I'm thinking you need to go home  _right now_  and we're going to deal with this attitude of yours," he said. But even as Puck was opening his mouth to respond, Kurt's navigator pulled up beside the curb. He reached over and opened the door. His eyes were sparkling.

"Get in, Finn," he said. "Noah, you can take the Nav to see Shelby after I drop us back at the house."

"Yes, sir," he said.

"Kurt," Finn replied, climbing into the front seat, "Puck and I have a —"

"I want you to see what I've done with the basement," Kurt said, cutting him off. "Noah and I already spoke about him wanting to take the car, last night while you were out. Whatever you two have can wait."

Finn didn't look happy about it, but he nodded. He fixed Puck with a look over his shoulder.  _We'll deal with you later,_  the look said. It still made Puck shiver. Nobody could do that look like Finn could.

He hadn't called Shelby, but he figured he could do that on his way out to Akron, and she was sure to be around, with Sectionals coming up so soon. She was going to want to hear what he had to say, even if she didn't say yes to his request. But he was damn sure going to ask for permission first. He dialed Carl's office number.

" _Offices of Howell and Lawton,"_  said Angela,  _"how may I direct your call?"_

"Hey, Angela. I have to ask Carl something important." He ignored Finn's stare. "Is he busy?"

" _He's usually busy, but if it's brief, he should have time after his next client. Can I ask him to call you back in about a half hour?"_

"Great," Puck agreed. "Thanks." He ended the call and dialed Adam.

"What are you doing, sweetheart?" Kurt asked curiously.

"Being responsible," Puck replied. Into the phone, he said, "Hey, it's me. I got an important question, and about two hours to answer it. Call me when you get this."

* * *

"I had to skip school to finish it, but I really think she's going to like it." Kurt switched on the light in Sarah's bedroom, looking back at Finn expectantly. "I hope she'll consider it a peace offering, after all the confusion about the house. I used Marlene Dietrich and Gary Cooper in  _Morocco_  as my inspiration. It's a perfect blend of the masculine and the feminine, the muted and the theatrical. Just like Sarah."

Finn gazed around himself in confusion, taking in the bed covered with throw pillows. "Are you freaking insane? You know she can't live here."

Kurt's smile had vanished. "Why are you getting angry about everything? I worked hard at this."

"That's not — Kurt, you didn't need to spend three hundred dollars on a room for Sarah. We're not even going to be able to  _stay_  here. Why is it so hard for you to understand?" He realized he was shouting, and struggled to modulate his voice.  _Control, Finn,_  he could hear Carl say in his mind, but at the moment it just served to make him more angry. "I just don't want to have to worry about that stuff in my own house."

"What  _stuff_  are you referring to?" Kurt's voice came out sharp.

"You know," Finn said. "You know what I'm talking about. Don't play dumb. Seven people in a two-bedroom house — and none of us can sleep in the basement. How's that going to work when the social services people come for the home inspection? Why can't you just accept that we're not going to be able to stay in your mother's house?"

"I have accepted that," Kurt shot back, obviously stung.

"No, you haven't." Finn approached him, holding out a hand, and Kurt took it reluctantly. "You don't think I understand? You remember how I felt about my dad's freaking  _chair,_  and all I had was stories about him. This place is full of memories of your mom. You don't want to let it go."

"It's just a room, Finn," he snapped. "I can redecorate if I want to."

Finn hugged him tight, and Kurt let him. He could feel him trembling.

"Okay," Finn said gently. He stroked Kurt's back. "Okay. You're right. I know you're dealing with a lot right now, with Adam being away, and… whatever else you're doing."

He felt Kurt stiffen. "To what are you referring?"

He squeezed his shoulder. "Last night. You said you were talking to someone. Kurt, you  _never_  go out of the house in sweatpants. Not ever. What's going on?"

He waited until the silence dragged on too long. When he backed away to look at Kurt's face, he wasn't looking back.

"Baby?" Finn said. Kurt sighed.

"I promised I wouldn't tell."

Finn furrowed his brow. " _We_  promised we wouldn't have any more secrets between us."

Kurt waited another several long moments before nodding reluctantly. "I… was talking to Dave. Dave Karofsky."

Finn stared at him. " _Karofsky?"_

"Don't get so worked up. It's not what you think."

"You have no idea what I think!" Finn was about to give up on trying to stay calm. "Mostly what I think is, why are you wasting your time on that asshole? He's nothing but a bully and a loser — and trust me, I know what I'm talking about. He used to be my friend."

"He could use a friend right now, Finn," said Kurt. His body language was all closed off again, his arms crossed and his face severe. "He's not behaving so differently from the way Noah and you were at the beginning of the year."

"I am  _nothing_  like that Neanderthal!" Finn yelled, pointing at the stairs. "He  _hurts_  you. He put you in a locker and left you there for hours while your head was bleeding. I'd bet you that whole three hundred dollars you spent on Sarah's room that  _he's_  the one who broke your wrist freshman year." He stared at Kurt, who bristled. "Tell me I'm wrong."

"Finn, listen carefully to what I'm saying. Dave is dealing with the  _same things_  we were dealing with earlier this year." He looked meaningfully at Finn. "The  _same things."_

Finn felt the contents of his stomach curdle. "You mean he — no. Kurt, no. You're wrong."

"Finn," Kurt tried, but Finn cut him off with a wave of his arm. He saw Kurt flinch back at his motion, but Finn wasn't going to stop and listen to this  _garbage_.

"You know what he calls us every day, right?  _F_ _aggot."_ Finn watched Kurt flinch as he spat the word at him. "Yeah. You and me, we're nothing but flammable bundles of logs to him. It's the worst name he can think to call anybody. He uses it in every other sentence. If he were here, he'd take one look around this room and he'd say  _this faggy lamp_  and  _this faggy blanket_ , and —"

" _What_ did you just call him?"

Burt was descending the stairs, squinting at Finn with astonished fury. Kurt turned to stare at his dad.

Finn shook his head. "Oh, no, no, I didn't call him anything, I was talking to the blanket."

"You use that word, you're talking about him. You're talking about yourself, Finn."

"Just relax, Dad," Kurt said quickly. "He didn't mean it that way."

"Yeah, that's because you're sixteen and you still assume the best in people." Burt glared, and it was Finn's turn to flinch. "You live a few years, and you start to see the hate in people's hearts. Even when it's about themselves. Yeah, Kurt's taught me all about homophobia. You wouldn't use the N-word or say  _retard,_  but you think it's okay to come in my house and say  _faggy?_ "

"That's not what I meant," Finn protested.

"I know what you meant!" Burt roared.

Finn swallowed. He wanted to stop and say,  _no, look, you've got it wrong,_ but talking to Burt when he was all full of righteous anger was as impossible as interrupting Carl. And Kurt — Kurt wasn't going to stand up for him, not after the way Finn had just lashed out at him.

"You think I didn't use that word when I was your age?" Burt said. "Some kid gets clocked in practice, we'd tell him to  _stop being such a fag, shake it off._  We meant it exactly the way you meant it - like being gay was some kind of punishable offense."

Over Burt's shoulder, Finn watched Kurt react to his dad's words.  _That's just what Dave does,_  Finn wanted to say to Kurt,  _and you want to forgive him, just like that? Even if he might be… god._ He tried to communicate the thoughts with his eyes, but Kurt wouldn't look at him.

"I really thought you were different, Finn." Burt's expression was suffused with wounded indignation. It was exactly the expression Finn had seen on Kurt's face, dozens of times before. "The way you've treated my son, the kind of man you've been these past six months… I thought you were some new generation of dude, who saw things differently, who just kind of came into the world knowing what it's taken me  _years_ of struggling to figure out. I guess I was wrong. I'm sorry, Finn, but you can't stay here."

"Dad," Kurt pleaded. Now he was crying.

"I love your mom," said Burt, "and maybe this is going to cost me her, but I can't have that kind of poison around any of you kids. Not Kurt, not Puck, and not Sarah — and not you." He turned to face Kurt with fierce intensity. "This is  _our home._  We made it a safe space for  _all_  of you, Finn, and that's the way it's always going to be."

Finn stared at Kurt, waiting for him to speak up, to explain. But Kurt was still silent, holding his tears at bay with nothing more than his own hands on his elbows. Finn could guess what he was thinking.  _I told Dave I wouldn't say anything._ Because Kurt would keep Dave's secret, even at his own expense, just as he had for Puck, for Finn, for his family.

_You're going to throw me under a bus for homophobic asshole Dave Karofsky?_ Finn wanted to shout. Instead, he brushed past Kurt up the stairs, grabbed his backpack, and walked out the front door.

It wasn't until he'd reached Findlay Road and turned the corner to walk past the garage that Finn realized he wasn't heading for his own house. He was going to Dave's.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finn goes to Dave's house and confronts him, and learns something else surprising about Dave. Puck and the guys sing "Beth" in Glee. Puck, Rachel and Finn go to Akron to meet with Shelby.

Finn hadn't been to Dave Karofsky's house since middle school, long after they'd stopped being school friends and were struggling to remain friends at all, but his feet remembered the way well enough. From Kurt's house, it was a good half-hour walk. It should have given him time to clear his head, but by the time he reached Dave's front walk, he was just as muddled as he'd been when Burt had thrown him out of the house.

Finn knew it wouldn't be hard to clear things up with Burt. He wasn't worried about that; Burt had just been protecting his family, and Finn knew when it came down to it, he was still part of that. But he couldn't explain what was going on — not until he knew the truth.

_The truth,_  his mind echoed, and Rachel's face appeared. He could see the ways in which she looked like Shelby, but now he could see the ways she looked like Carl, too. He couldn't decide if the thought was more fascinating or more disturbing.

He diverted his thoughts from Carl, taking a resolute breath before walking up to the Karofsky's front door and ringing the bell.

The man who answered the door wasn't Dave, but Finn remembered him, and his smile seemed comfortable and genuine. "Well, for crying out loud. If it isn't Finn Hudson."

"Hey, Mr. Karofsky," he said, doing his best to smile back.

Mr. Karofsky opened the door and invited him in. "It's been a while since you came over here. I saw you on the court this season at the basketball games. And quarterback — you've become quite the star."

"It's not all that big a deal," Finn said. "I just got lucky."

"Well." Mr. Karofsky looked at him expectantly. "What can I do for you?"

"I was wondering… I had to talk to Dave about something. Is he here?"

"He's tutoring down at the library, but he should be home pretty soon." Mr. Karofsky checked his watch. "Ten minutes tops. I bet he's already left. You want me to give him a call, let him know you're here?"

"No, no," Finn said hastily. "Would it be okay if I waited on the porch?"

"It's still raining, isn't it? Nah, c'mon. Wait in the kitchen. Let me get you something to drink."

It was incredibly uncomfortable to be in the presence of the father of the boy who'd been harassing his boyfriend for god knew how long. Finn pasted on a polite expression and made small talk for as long as he could manage, but all he could think about was the resolute expression on Kurt's face as he'd listened to his dad's diatribe. He hadn't tried very hard to interrupt.

When he heard the door open and close, and Dave call, "Hey, Dad," Finn stood, but Mr. Karofsky waved him back down onto the kitchen stool.

"I'll go let him know you're here."

Finn made himself breathe evenly, mentally bracing himself for the inevitable confrontation. Dave wouldn't try to beat him up in his own kitchen, would he? He thought about Kurt, coming over here by himself, talking to Dave without anybody around to back him up, and it made him cringe. The silence from the front hall was ominous.

Then Dave was there, staring at him with the oddest expression. Finn stared back. He tried to raise one eyebrow, the way Kurt did, but he couldn't quite manage to keep the other one from going up too.

Whatever the effect, Dave seemed to get the point. He sighed, turning away. "Come on."

"Come on what?" Finn asked suspiciously.

"Just, come on," Dave said from the hallway.

Curiosity led Finn back to the front hall, where Dave was already climbing the staircase to the second floor. He wasn't even watching to see if Finn was following.

"Is this going to be, like, me talking and you punching, or what?" Finn said.

Dave shot him a dirty look over his shoulder. "We're not going to talk about this  _here."_

"Here in your house, or —?"

"Not here in my fucking foyer," Dave hissed. He looked more annoyed than scared. That was different — at least different from the way Dave had been at school for the past two years. It made Finn wonder, enough to continue up the stairs and around the corner to Dave's bedroom.

That hadn't changed at all, at least not in ways that Finn could tell. It was still far too austere and well-kept for a boy's bedroom, the kind of thing Finn had always expected to find in one of Kurt's decorator magazines, but not in someone's actual house. He thought about Sarah's room, and winced.

"You're going to have to do this quick," said Dave. He didn't sit down. "I've got a pretty firm weekday curfew."

"You're tutoring at the library?" Finn asked.

Dave furrowed his brow. "Yeah. Math, for desperate middle schoolers. They're freaking out about failing algebra. The threat of having to retake it in high school is enough to get their parents to hire me." He shrugged. "So?"

"It's… just another thing I didn't know about you."

Now Dave glared at him. "You got something to say, Hudson, you'd better say it."

"I'm here to tell you not to mess with Kurt," Finn said. He tried to keep his voice calm.

Now Dave actually laughed. "With  _Kurt?_  You think you need to protect him?"

"I just know what I've seen. You're not going to take advantage of him."

Dave approached him. He still looked pissed, but he wasn't making any threatening moves with his fists or anything else. "I guess I don't need to ask you  _what do you care._ "

"I care plenty," Finn snapped. "And I don't know what you're holding over his head, but I'm not going to let you go on threatening him. He doesn't deserve it."

Dave nodded. "I know."

He waited for more, but that seemed to be all Dave wanted to say. Finn nodded uncertainly. "So, are we clear?"

" _We're_ clear," said Dave. "Me and Kurt. It doesn't have anything to do with you,  _Finn."_

"What is  _that_  supposed to mean?"

"It means I knew all about you and — and everybody. And I didn't say a word to anyone." Dave crossed his arms. "I didn't out you, or Puck. That's not something you do to people."

Finn could feel the anger boiling hotter. "Excuse me? Are you saying — what, you're not a tattletale? Big freaking deal. You humiliated him. For years, you harassed him. You  _hurt_  him."

Dave's face was drawn. "I don't have to justify myself to you. You fucking gave up on me a long time before I ever gave up on you."

Finn sputtered. "Who says I gave up on you?"

"Do you even  _care_  what I think? You've been ignoring me or making fun of me for years now. Why should you expect any different from me?" Dave tightened his mouth. "So is that all you had to say?"

"You didn't tell me anything!" cried Finn.

"Yeah. I think you'll have to talk to Kurt if you want more than that."

"I did talk to Kurt." Finn's words came out clipped. "When he tried to defend you, I had to come here for myself and make sure you knew —"

Dave blinked. "He… tried to defend me?"

"Yeah." Finn sighed. "He said he couldn't tell me what you guys talked about, but I made him." He watched Dave's face relax from its sullen mask into something more thoughtful. "I couldn't believe what he told me. That you were… dealing with the same stuff that the three of us were."

"Yeah, no." Dave snorted. "I'm not into that shit."

"That's not what I — Jesus, Dave." He was feeling more and more exasperated by the whole situation: by Dave's mystifying behavior, by the way he refused to engage with him about Kurt. Dave sighed and faced him, looking hard into Finn's eyes.

"Just tell me you're treating him well."

"Of course I am. Didn't I come all the way over here just to tell you that?"

Dave shook his head. "Not Kurt. I'm talking about Blaine."

_Blaine._ The name was completely out of context, coming from Dave Karofsky's mouth, spoken in his bedroom, talking about Kurt. But how many Blaines could there be in Lima? And how could  _Dave_  know — Finn shook his head in confusion, his spine prickling. "What?"

Dave was still looking at him intently. "I don't want to know details. You wanted to know if I was taking advantage of Kurt; I'm not. I just need to know the same is true about Blaine."

"How do you know… Blaine?" he whispered. Finn felt his blood turn to ice as he realized a possible connection. "Oh my god… it was you. You were the one who hurt him, weren't you? At the Sadie Hawkins dance. That was you."

"No!" Dave cried. He took three steps toward Finn and pushed him back with the flat of his hand. "Fuck, no, that wasn't me. I would  _never_  hurt him."

"Like you never hurt Kurt?" Finn shot back. He watched Dave's face flush. "Yeah, Kurt wouldn't say, but I know about his wrist, freshman year. I know that had to have been your fault. You might have Kurt convinced that you've turned over a new leaf, somehow, but I'm going to need more than him believing in you. Just because we play for the same team sometimes doesn't mean I trust you."

"And like I said, this isn't about you." Dave tossed his head. "Not everything is."

Finn fumed silently for a few more seconds before marshaling his calm once again. "So, what, you and Blaine…?"

"He was my friend, once." Dave's voice had dropped, but Finn could hear the implication:  _like you were, once._  "He might be a stuck-up rich kid, but he doesn't deserve to be jerked around."

"I'm not jerking him around," Finn said firmly. "Blaine is safe with me. That's the truth."

"Oh, and you're so good at telling the truth, yourself?" The words were scornful, but Dave was still searching his face as he spoke.  _He cares,_ thought Finn.  _For whatever reason, he cares._

"I'm telling you the truth about this," said Finn. "You have my word. All right?" He waited until Dave gave him a reluctant nod. "And, whatever you think of me, I won't tell anybody about you either."

"Nothing to tell," Dave muttered. He gave a tired wave. "Go home to your boyfriends, Hudson."

Finn didn't correct him. He didn't go looking to say good night to Mr. Karofsky, either. Finn wasn't certain his face was doing a very good job of being polite at the moment, and he wasn't in the mood to be thrown out of a second house tonight.

He didn't have any more answers than he had before he'd come to Dave's house. As he walked into the misty night, he dug his phone out and dialed, putting it to his ear.

" _Finn,"_  his mom began with a sigh.

"I guess Burt told you what happened," he said.

" _He told me something, but I'm not sure I believe it. I want to hear it from you, your own words."_

"Yeah. It's complicated. I don't think I should push it tonight. Things are already… kind of messed up." He swallowed as visions of Carl floated across his mind's eye. "I'll be at the house, if you want to talk later."

" _I'll be there."_  She sounded wistful. _"Let me at least tell him you didn't say what he thought you said?"_

"Mom…"

" _Okay. Tomorrow. I love you, you know that?"_

"Yeah." He brushed away the moisture collecting on his cheeks. "I'm sorry."

" _Whatever you said or didn't say, Finn, it doesn't matter. We're in this together."_

"It's not that simple anymore, though."

" _No, but it means you can always come to me if you need to talk about anything. Anything, okay? I'll see you at the house."_

It was only a couple blocks back to his place, but Finn went the long way, the one that took him past Matt's house. The For Sale sign was still there, posted in the neatly mowed lawn in front of the hedge. He could see Danielle through the front window, watching television. He tried to picture himself in that living room, or Kurt or Sarah or Puck, but somehow he couldn't make it work in his mind, like the puzzle pieces were the wrong size.

_Mom called it "the house,"_  he thought.  _She didn't call it home. Already._

Whatever it was, it was mostly bare by now, the shelves empty and the pictures packed away. The furniture was all still there, and his drum kit. Finn wandered through the first floor, touching everything, remembering as he did so, like his fingertips were activating the memories. Half of them involved Puck, and most of the rest were about him and his mom. None of them had anything to do with Christopher Hudson. He tried his best to resurrect any memories at all about the woman his mom had apparently loved, but there were none of those to be found either.

Finn sat on the edge of the couch, staring at nothing. There were still too many questions circling in his brain to allow him to rest. How could Kurt consider forgiving Dave for what he'd done so easily? Had Blaine really told Dave about him, or had Dave found out in some other way?

And then there was Carl. Rachel didn't know about their relationship, he was sure of it. She had always spoken confidently about  _my two gay dads_ , not at all like she was covering something up. The more he thought about it, the more obvious it became.

_Of course she is,_  he thought, his heart wrenching.  _Of course she's his daughter. Of course I love her the way that I do. And of course he didn't tell me._

Finn sat on the couch, his phone in his hands, and he did not call him.

* * *

Kurt pointedly ignored Finn all day. He knew it was childish, sitting next to him in math and completely failing to respond to any of his blatant nudges and throat-clearing, but he wasn't going to be the first one to bring it up.

Dave passed him three times in the hall, and each time he muttered something under his breath. It was almost as though nothing had changed, except that Kurt now possessed some reasonable proof about what might lie behind the daily mask that Dave Karofsky wore. It could have felt like a burden, but somehow it didn't. He felt almost smug about the whole thing. Of all the people in the school, he might be the only one, other than Matt Rutherford, who had seen Dave's true face in years — maybe ever.

Puck was oblivious to the thing that was happening between Finn and Kurt. He was quiet at lunch, giving Kurt an absent smile and touching his hand under the table, but other than that, he seemed to be lost in his own world.

"We have another KISS song to sing today," he told Kurt. "Me and Finn and the other guys. I don't think we're gonna need our outfits for it, though. And I'm going to Akron after that."

"You could talk to me," Kurt said. "You don't have to drive all the way to Akron."

Puck shrugged, chewing his pasta salad. "I think I kind of do."

"Because Shelby has something you need?"

He shook his head. "Because I have something  _she_  needs."

The Gaga brigade had chosen "Starstruck" as their second number, with Santana on lead vocals, although they'd had to ask Artie to cross over from KISS to make a guest appearance; he was the only one who could handle Flo Rida's rap with any kind of skill.

Kurt had managed to repair his costume enough to wear it again. It was starting to feel almost ordinary to see Quinn in pink hoops and Tina in her bubble dress. He smiled at her as he settled in the chair beside her in the choir room.

"You look like you should be in orbit."

Tina grinned. "My balls keep falling off. And that's a sentence I never thought I'd say."

"Kurt," Finn said, pitching his voice low. Kurt turned to face him reluctantly. "We have to talk about this."

"There's not much to say," Kurt whispered back. "I feel sorry for him. You're going to have to figure out how to deal with this on your own."

"You're going to let him get away with everything he's done?" Finn demanded under his breath.

Kurt stared defiantly back. "I forgave you. I forgave Noah."

"This is different," Finn insisted, his voice rising to normal levels.  _"I'm_  different."

Quinn and Mercedes turned to look at Finn curiously, and he sat back in his chair with an exasperated sigh.

"Okay, let's get started," Mr. Schue said, looking expectantly at Santana. But before she could get to her feet, Puck was in front of the room. His face was sober.

"I have something I want to say to Quinn," he said. "To all of you, really."

"All right," said Mr. Schue. He didn't look all that surprised. Kurt wondered if Puck had already spoken to him about this.

Puck sighed, his hands in his pockets.

"At first I didn't really get this business about being a papa," he said. "I thought it was because my dad wasn't much of one. He was too busy being all crazy and rock'n'roll to be there for his kids. But you know what? I didn't care that my dad was a badass. I just wanted him to be there, and he never was. He's not doing so much better this time around either." He scanned the room apologetically, letting his eyes rest on Kurt, then Mercedes, and finally Finn before coming back to Quinn. "I realized it wasn't about what he did so much as it was about  _being there_  to do it. One of the KISS songs kind of talks about that. So if my KISS-mates will help me out, I want to sing it." He gestured to the boys. "Grab a stool, guys."

Kurt watched Finn as he took a seat at the end, avoiding eye contact with everyone. The five of them in ordinary clothes in the spotlight, being watched by the audience of Little Monsters, seemed strange, but not one of them objected, not even Santana. Brad began the piano introduction.

_Beth, I hear you calling_   
_But I can't come home right now_   
_Me and the boys are playing_   
_And we just can't find the sound_   
_Just a few more hours_   
_And I'll be right home to you_   
_I think I hear them calling_   
_Oh, Beth, what can I do  
_ _Beth, what can I do?_

The words were familiar by now, and not only from listening to Adam's rendition. Kurt had heard Puck and Finn rehearsing all week. But the lyrics in Finn's verse hit him hard, and he had to look away.

_You say you feel so empty_   
_That our house just ain't a home_   
_I'm always somewhere else_   
_And you're always there alone_   
_Just a few more hours_   
_And I'll be right home to you_   
_I think I hear them calling_   
_Oh, Beth, what can I do  
_ _Beth, what can I do?_

Puck looked right at Kurt as he sang the coda, his eyes begging for something, Kurt didn't know what. Kurt had seldom seen him like this at school, so open and vulnerable. It reminded him of the day when he'd sung "Hair," and Puck had broken down after talking to his mom on the phone. Kurt wrung his hands and bit his lip, wishing he could be right there next to him, but he wasn't about to interrupt their performance.

_Beth, I know you're lonely  
_ _And I hope you'll be all right  
_ ' _Cause me and the boys will be playing  
_ _All night_

There was no applause as Brad played the last chord. It seemed they could all sense it wasn't a happy song.

Puck stood, coming to stand in front of Quinn, his position subservient. Kurt almost expected him to kneel right there on the floor of the choir room.

"I know you don't feel bad for giving her up," he said quietly. "But I want you to know I'm gonna do everything I can to make sure she's taken care of. Even if I can't be the one to do it. And I think… I think we should name her Beth. If you'll let me."

Quinn looked more pleased than Kurt would have expected. She nodded, her lip trembling.

"I can't wait to be there when she's born," Puck said, his voice husky. "I can't wait to meet her."

"Yeah," Quinn whispered. She reached out and took his hand. "Me too."

After that, Santana's performance of "Starstruck" was somewhat halfhearted, but they did applaud for Artie's rap. Rachel came up to Puck where he sat next to Kurt, and surprised him by giving Puck a hug.

"It was beautiful, Noah," she said. "I'll get changed, and then we can get going."

"She's coming with me and Finn to Akron," he explained, as Kurt looked at him quizzically. "I'll pick up my truck from the Carmel parking lot and drive it home. Sarah said she'd cover dinner tonight. If, uh, if that's cool."

Kurt wrapped his arms around him and held on for a long time. He didn't care what kind of a scene he was making at the moment. He had a right to hug his boyfriend, especially after a song like that.

"Yes, Noah," he said against his cheek. "You may."

Puck's response was nearly inaudible. "Thank you, sir." His eyes were dry when he sat back, but they had that same desperation. "It's for you, too, you know."

"What is?"

"The name.  _Beth._  After your mother."

Kurt bit back a gasp that threatened to become a sob. "Oh — Noah."

"I'm really sorry I didn't get to meet her," he said. "She sounded like a really nice lady. I wish I could have let her know how much I dig her son."

He had to smile. "She really would have loved to know that."

They walked out together, standing more closely than Kurt usually did with Puck at school, but at the moment, Puck seemed to be needing the contact. He didn't even acknowledge the presence of anyone else until he was jolted out of his reverie by Dave's sneering voice.

"You know, next to that Halloween costume, Puckerman, you look almost normal." Dave simpered, making a dainty gesture with his hand. "Where's your eyeliner today?"

Kurt couldn't see a trace of hidden meaning on Dave's face. If he hadn't known better, he would have assumed Karofsky was up to his old tricks. Kurt huffed loudly. "Can't you leave him alone?"

"Standing up for your boyfriend, Hummel?" Dave's smirk was picture-perfect. "Thought that fundraiser was over. He doesn't have to be the slave anymore."

On any other day, Puck might have had a clever retort, but today he barely had the wherewithal to look away from Dave's jeering face. He squeezed Kurt's hand, giving him a tired smile. "I'll be back tonight as quick as I can."

"Call me if the truck won't start," Kurt said quietly. "Or if you need to talk to me, after." He gave Dave one quick, stern glance before kissing Puck. It was brief, and the kiss didn't quite land on his lips, more like a glancing blow to the corner of his mouth, but Dave made a hooting noise and doubled over laughing.

"What a freak show this hallway is turning into!" Dave mimed throwing up into the corner. "I'll tell you what, I'm not walking  _this_  way after sixth period anymore. Nobody wants to see that shit."

Kurt found himself growing genuinely annoyed as he watched Dave walk away — until, five minutes later, when he was climbing into the Navigator, and he looked at the text he'd just received.

It was from Dave.

_That kiss was a little much, wasn't it?_  he read.

_Noah had a hard day,_  Kurt replied slowly. _I wasn't trying to be obnoxious._

_The hell you weren't._

Kurt stifled his smile.  _You were convincing._

_I'm just being the person everybody knows I am._

His phrasing was strange, Kurt thought, as he drove home. Not  _the person I am,_  but  _the person everybody knows I am._  Obviously everybody had some idea who Dave Karofsky was.

Kurt didn't expect anyone else to be home, but the delicious smell in the kitchen drew him inside. Sure enough, the house was empty. The slow cooker's light was the only thing on. Kurt lifted the lid and peered inside, sniffing. He thought it might be pork. Sarah must have set it up to cook while they were at school.

The phone startled him. It wasn't a text this time, but a voice call, and the caller ID said  _Dr. Howell,_  which meant it wasn't Carl's office, but his direct line. Kurt hesitantly put the phone to his ear. "Hello?"

" _Kurt,"_  said Carl.  _"I'm… thanks for taking my call. I've been trying to reach Finn for the last few days, but he hasn't responded to my calls. Is he all right?"_

"Oh." Kurt sat down in the dark kitchen and slowly took off his ten-inch heels, rubbing his feet. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize he hadn't been communicating with you. That's my fault. We've had a disagreement."

" _That happens,"_  Carl acknowledged. " _I'm glad to hear he's all right. I have faith that the two of you can work it out, whatever it is. Would you let him know, when he comes home, that I'm available to drive with him to Westerville on Wednesday this week?"_

"I don't know when I'll be seeing him, exactly, but when I do, I'll let him know." The statement made his heart feel heavy in his chest. He took a few breaths, trying to buoy his hope.

" _Thank you, Kurt. How's Puck doing? Time's getting closer, isn't it?"_

Kurt didn't understand what he meant for a moment, but then he thought about their song in Glee, and he smiled. "Quinn's not due until May. But he did pick a name today. Beth. Elizabeth, if I have anything to say about it."

" _That's very nice. And how is Adam?"_

The question took him by surprise, even though Carl was clearly just making small talk. He stuttered a laugh. "I — um. That's a hard question to answer. I'm sorry, it's just that nobody ever asks me about him."

" _I'd heard that he was having a hard time of it, too. The pressure must be enormous, being on the road all the time."_

"They still haven't made a final decision about the tour, or at least not that I've hear about. I honestly don't know for sure if he's looking forward to it or not." Kurt rubbed his forehead. "He hasn't been calling back either."

" _Well, consider that might not be because he's busy. I doubt he's avoiding you for no reason. I'd be persistent, if I were you. If he's anything like me, he's sure he can handle it on his own until it's far too late to do anything about it."_

It wasn't a very comforting thought. Kurt thanked Carl anyway. Then he called Adam, waiting through the generic message about not being available. He didn't attempt to put on a cheery voice, but spoke as calmly as he could.

"You're going to have to forgive me," he said, "but I'm a little past starting to worry. I could use a friend right now, and if you're not going to be it, at least have the decency to call Noah. He's not even a father yet and already he's convinced he's going to be a bad one." He had to take another breath, fighting for control. "Just call me, even if you can't talk. Or don't want to talk. I love you."

The house smelled wonderful, but he needed to get out of that silent, empty place or he was going to go crazy. Kurt went downstairs and carefully took off his Gaga outfit and put on something more conducive to camouflage. Then he walked the eight blocks from his house to the garage. It was such a familiar walk, he could do it without thinking about it, walking on the east side up Jefferson along the edge of the park. He wouldn't be able to walk home from the garage if they ended up buying Matt's house. Not that he was spending all that much time at the garage anymore, anyway, now that he was on the Cheerios. And he had the Navigator, if he needed to get around. But the idea of Sarah not being able to walk there was a little hard to take.

When he walked through the front bay door, the only person there was Luke, the night manager. He waved at Kurt and set down the nozzle for the air compressor.

"Your dad's not here," he told Kurt. "He left about a half hour ago. I think he had to go pick up Carole. Something about a meeting with Social Services?"

"Oh." Kurt glanced around, feeling even more lost. His eyes landed on the Impala in the back bay. "Is that Noah's? Um- Puck's?"

Luke nodded, smiling. "He made a good attempt at getting that paint right on the hood, but it was still pretty lumpy. Don't tell him I buffed it and repainted it, okay? He's been working hard on it."

"That was really nice of you." Kurt resisted the urge to open the hood and look inside.  _This is Noah's project._  "He's going to need to get his old truck hauled to the salvage yard when he brings it back from Akron."

"Already scheduled." Luke made a face. "What's it doing in Akron? I've seen that truck. I'm surprised it made it that far on the highway."

Luke was a nice guy, but Kurt was pretty sure he wasn't ready to hear the whole story about Puck and Shelby and the baby. He wasn't even sure he knew the whole story himself. "Puck's seeing somebody out there," he said. It was a good enough story for Luke.

"Long drive," was all Luke said in response. "You want to give me a hand with this last tune-up?"

It wasn't a two-person job, but Kurt felt himself relax as Luke held out a set of coveralls. This part of his life, at least, wasn't going to change. The garage wold always be the garage, and when all else failed, he could lose himself here in mindless tasks. "Sure."

* * *

Puck was surprised at how quiet Rachel was all the way to Akron. He tried to keep himself busy, but there were only so many times he could read over Gaga's sheet music for her acoustic version of Poker Face.  _Slow down, Kurt,_  was scrawled at the top in Brad's messy handwriting.

"Thanks for letting us take your dads' car," he said. "I wouldn't have asked you if it wasn't important. Finn's a good driver."

"We'll go really slow on the way back," Finn promised.

"This  _is_  way further from home than I usually go on a school night," she said, "but I had to come with you. And I guess it makes a kind of sense. I'm ending this chapter with Ms. — with Shelby, and you're starting one."

"I don't know what I'm doing yet," he said. "But it feels like the right thing to do. I'm not going to let myself be my dad all over again."

"You wouldn't be, Noah," she protested. "You're doing everything you can to make it right. I could see that today when you were singing to Quinn." Her eyes flickered back to the road. "It's kind of romantic and sad, but… I admire that, in a way."

Finn reached behind his seat and took his hand, and Puck held it all the way to the Carmel parking lot. It wasn't weird to do that in front of Rachel anymore.

"There's a restaurant on Darrow that makes vegan food," he said as Finn put the car in park. "I don't think I can eat right now, but maybe afterward."

"I'd like that," said Rachel.

The sky was growing dark as they approached the auditorium door. Shelby had told him she would prop it open for them, and sure enough, the door was held open with a wood chip. But when they went inside, the auditorium seemed to be empty.

"I know where the lights are," Rachel said, moving up the stairs to the stage. After a moment, the stage lit up with a spotlight. It seemed brighter than Puck would have wanted, but he wasn't in a mood to complain.

"I'll just sit out here," Finn called. He edged into a row of seats in the third row and settled into one of them. Puck grinned as he sat at the piano.

"Kind of like when Kurt was making you sing that Pretenders song for me," he said.

Even with the spotlight on, he could see Finn's embarrassed smile. "Kind of," he agreed.

Rachel gave Puck a curious glance. Puck picked out the chords on the piano, and sang:

_Oh, why you look so sad?  
_ _Tears are in your eyes  
_ _C'mon and come to me now  
_ _Don't be ashamed to cry  
_ _Let me see you through  
_ ' _Cause I've seen the dark side too_

"Oh," Rachel said. She pressed her lips together. "That's… Finn, you sang that for Noah?"

"I didn't mean to," Finn protested, and Puck laughed. "He wasn't supposed to be in the audience."

"But I was." Puck propped the sheet music to "Poker Face" on the ledge of the piano. "Dunno what would have happened if I hadn't been. That was the first time I kissed Kurt, right in front of you."

Rachel shook her head, looking bemused. "I still don't understand how the three of you manage not to kill each other."

"What, from jealousy?" Puck shrugged. "Are you jealous of me?"

"Maybe?" Rachel's cheeks were pink. "I don't know. Why are you even asking me that?"

"It's not like I'm stopping you from going out with him." Puck played the first few chords, getting the feel for the grand piano. "Dude, Kurt should really be the one accompanying you. I kind of suck on the piano."

"Kurt's got plenty of other stuff to worry about," Finn said. "And you could play any instrument if you wanted."

"I won't judge you, I promise," Rachel told him. "I can't play and sing at the same time. I didn't even know you could play at all. Plus, aren't you kind of anti-Gaga?"

"I'm not anti-anything." Puck fumbled a note and tried the phrase again. "There's too much awesome in the world for me to rule anything out."

Rachel was so busy looking at the music that she didn't notice Shelby approach from behind. Puck gave her a little wave, and she smiled.

"I'm glad you found your way in." She came up beside him and rested a hand on his shoulder, but her eyes were on Rachel. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"I asked to come," Rachel said. She looked so nervous, facing Shelby that way. Puck played another chord, then another, trying to stay in the background, the way Brad always did. "I had… I wanted…" She took a deep breath. "How'd you come up with the name Rachel?" she asked softly. "My dads always told me it was because they were Friends fans, but…"

"It's my sister's name," said Shelby. "When I had - my first child, my husband and I named him, and Rachel went along with it. When I got pregnant with you, I ran away to New York and stayed with her for a while, spent time with her and her husband Nathan and their family." She leaned on the piano. "I guess I needed to prove to myself that I wasn't ready to be a mother. She would have taken you, too, but it didn't work out that way. Your dads liked the name Rachel."

Rachel nodded. "I just… I wanted to say goodbye. It's too late for us. I'm not confused about that." She brushed her hair out of her face. "But I know you want to — to try again. You want a child who  _wants_  to fall into your arms when they're sad, and let you rock them and tell them everything's going to be all right."

"You have that, with your dads," said Shelby. "I'm your mother, but I'm not your mom."

Rachel nodded. "So… what, do we just pretend we don't know each other now?"

"That would be silly. Let's just be grateful for what we have." She flashed a smile. "Don't think for a second I'm going to go soft on you at Regionals."

Rachel laughed. "Bring it." She nodded at Puck. "Before I go… would you sing with me? Just one time. It's kind of a fantasy of mine. It would mean a lot to me."

"I would be honored." She tilted her head at Puck. "I didn't know you could play."

"We just had this conversation." Puck waved his hand at Rachel. "Just ignore me. Pretend I'm Brad."

He didn't need to tell them twice. Rachel and Shelby kept their eyes fixed on one another as Rachel sang.

_I wanna hold 'em like they do in Texas please_   
_Fold 'em, let 'em, hit me, raise it baby stay with me_   
_Love the game Intuition play the cards with spades to start_   
_And after he's been hooked I'll play the one that's on his heart_   
_Oh, I'll get him hot and show him what I've got_   
_Can't read my, no he can't read my poker face  
_ _He's got to love nobody_

Puck paid attention to Brad's comment and kept the pace measured, letting her have as much room as she wanted to improvise. He focused on getting as many notes right as he could, but when Shelby took over on the second verse, Puck couldn't help stumble and stare. He'd never really heard her perform. It was like watching Rachel, twenty years from now.

When they reached the end, Puck could see them both retreat a little from the vulnerability and joyousness of singing. Shelby came around to the other side of the piano and offered a hug, and Rachel took it.

"You're really, really good," Shelby said.

Rachel looked down at Finn, sitting in the audience. He looked a little stunned. "Is is okay if Finn and I wait here, while you guys talk?"

"Sure." Now Shelby was the one who looked uncertain. "Your keys are in my office. Why don't you come with me."

They walked through the silent hallways, their footfalls echoing. Shelby blew out a breath.

"Well, that was awkward. Is Finn dating her now, too?"

"Kind of," Puck said. "Better than Jesse."

She laughed quietly. "Yeah, well… I wasn't about to talk to her about  _that_  tonight."

"You don't need to tell her everything," Puck agreed. "Not if you're saying goodbye. It takes a while to tell everything." He looked over at her. "I kind of came out here expecting to tell you everything, actually."

"Everything," she echoed. "That's a lot to tell."

"I think the kind of thing you do when you're getting ready to do something major with somebody. To make a commitment."

She stopped in the hallway, facing him, and put out a hand. "Noah, wait."

"No, it really can't." He took her hand in both of his and carefully moved it aside. "I need to know if you really want to do this with me, and I haven't even  _said_  anything about it to you."

"You didn't have to." Shelby shook her head. "You've been asking it for weeks, in every conversation. Don't think I haven't heard you."

"Yeah, but you don't know everything." He looked back over his shoulder, making sure they were really alone. "Finn's  _my_  boyfriend."

"Yeah? I knew that."

"Finn's seeing somebody else." He sighed. "Somebody you know. And everybody in my family knows about it, but nobody else does. And nobody else can. So you have to kind of be part of my family, if you're going to know about it."

"Somebody I…" Shelby's face was a picture of concentration. "Noah, I won't tell anybody anything."

"I know that. And there's Max. You have to know about him, and I haven't been able to talk to him for way too long about this. He doesn't even know I'm asking you to — that I want you to —"

He stopped. Shelby looked like she might explode with tension any moment.

"What?" she demanded.

"Not yet. Let me work up to it."

She rolled her eyes. "I talked to Jesse."

"Huh?"

"Like you said I should. I talked to him, about Rachel, about what I did, sending him to McKinley to talk to her for me. He'll be graduating soon. I wanted him to know… I wasn't taking him for granted." She looked meaningfully at Puck. "I wasn't just taking advantage of him. I really do love him."

"I believe you." He chewed on his lip. "I picked a name for her today. For my kid."

"Don't tell me yet," Shelby said immediately. "It's bad luck. You're supposed to wait for a couple weeks until she's born to name her. At least wait until after I meet her to tell me."

"You don't want to have a say?"

Her eyes went soft. "I got to do that twice already. I think you get to have this."

He folded his arms around himself. "Just tell me you think I can do this. That you're not just jumping in here to — to save me from myself, from screwing up. From screwing  _her_  up."

"No." She reached out, grasping his shoulders in both hands. "No. I can't imagine one other kid your age who could do a better job. I just think you deserve to have some time to yourself. You can be a parent and still get time to be a kid sometimes."

"I don't need to be a kid," he insisted. "I need — I need time to — to let go. To let somebody else be in charge, sometimes. To be in charge of  _me."_

Her eyes got a little wide, but she nodded. "Okay. Yeah. I think I get that. And you have people to do that for you."

"Yeah. Finn, and Kurt, and… Max. Fuck, I'm done calling him that around you. His name's Adam, okay?"

"Okay," she said again. She squeezed his shoulders. "I'll keep calling him Max with everybody else."

"All right." He took a deep breath, feeling some of the tension leaving his body. "Last thing. Finn's got somebody, too. Somebody who's in charge of him, sometimes."

"Somebody I know," she supplied.

"Somebody you had a kid with."

Shelby took a step back, but she didn't let go of Puck, and he staggered with her. He grabbed her shoulders to keep from falling over, and they ended up both gripping one another, holding each other up. Her eyes were wild with shock.

"I didn't tell you," he said. "I knew you knew him, that you were both married to Davis once, but I didn't put all the pieces together until this week. And Finn figured it out too. Carl didn't tell him he's Rachel's father, and they've been together since December. He's freaking out."

"Yeah," she managed. "I — I can imagine."

"So, yeah. That's going to be complicated. But I thought if I was going to ask you to do this with me, you'd need to know. He's good for Finn."

Either she was a really good actress, or she was already starting to calm down. Puck thought it might be the second one. He watched her growing more calm and composed.

"Okay," she said a third time. Then she hugged him.

"I'm going to ask you now," he said, hugging her back. "Are you ready?"

"I think so," she said.

"You think you might say yes? Just… so I'm prepared."

She laughed. "I think I might."

"Yeah." He took another moment, his heart pounding loud enough to drown out his words. "You said you were Rachel's mother, but not her mom. You want to be this kid's mom?"

Shelby caught her breath, not letting go of him. "You trust me enough to coparent with me?"

"Yes," he said, without hesitation.

"Even if I've done nothing but lie to everybody?"

"You didn't lie to  _me."_  Puck let her go, looking into her face. "And you still haven't said yes."

"I have no idea how this is going to work," she said. "You live halfway across the state."

"We come visit Toby all the time. It's not like I'm asking you to move in with me. Just… sometimes, I'm gonna need to be something other than a papa."

Her eyes glistened. "I don't think you ever really stop being that, once you start."

"Yeah," he said softly. "You think you want to try it anyway?"

She nodded. Puck felt the smile overtake his face.

"You think we're totally crazy?"

"Absolutely," she said, and hugged him again.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finn gets a call from a surprise guest and makes a dress. Kurt comes home from the garage in a hurry. Burt and Carole come to a decision.

_And basically the theme of the song, as I'm sure you could kind of find in the lyric, is that no matter how much my lifestyle is fabulous, no matter how much money I'm making, no matter how much I'm traveling, if I don't have a connection with somebody, or with people in general, it's worthless. I really think it's a great message. I think that's something that needs to be reinforced, is that in this age of pop escapism, love kind of still needs to remain at the center of everything._

_\- Adam Lambert, speaking about "If I Had You," ONTD interview, March 13, 2010_

* * *

Rachel waited in the car while Puck started up the truck. Finn just stood there and watched.

"It's not like I would know what to listen for, if something were wrong," he told Puck. "I just wanted to make sure it actually started."

"You are getting rid of this, right?" Shelby said, nodding at the beat-up old Dodge Dakota. "Before she's born, preferably?"

"Burt got me an Impala," said Puck. "I painted it myself. Well, with help from Burt and Luke. Black. Should be ready to drive any day now. Kurt still needs to look it over. They're going to sell the truck for parts."

"You don't mind?" asked Finn.

Puck shrugged. "Maybe my dad would want it back, but… whatever. It's old and ready to be junked. Not everything lasts forever." He leaned over and gave Finn a kiss. "New chapter, right?"

Finn exhaled slowly, nodding. "Is it okay if we just go home instead of eating dinner? Rachel and I are both kind of tired, and I'm not that hungry."

"Sure," said Puck. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Finn climbed into Rachel's car and sat idling as Puck hugged Shelby goodbye. Rachel watched them, then sighed.

"Maybe I am a little jealous," she said. "But not of you. Or her."

He touched her hand. "You can want what you don't have."

"I still don't have a mom." She gave him a watery smile. "But Beth will."

"You're okay with that?"

"Are you?" Rachel asked.

Finn gave a little helpless laugh. "I don't feel like I have any say about that. He's the dad — the papa. I just want to help, even if I don't know how."

"You'll be living with her," she said. "I think you're going to figure it out."

At the moment, it all felt a little impossible, but Finn nodded anyway. He followed the truck as Puck pulled out, keeping a respectable distance, and he was quiet all the way to the highway.

"I think it was a good idea," Rachel said decisively. "What Noah asked Shelby to do. Noah knew he wouldn't be able to do it alone. And he didn't want to put the burden on anyone who didn't want a baby. And Shelby definitely did. As long as they can manage to keep getting along. I mean, it's a little unorthodox, but Noah's like that."

The phone ringing interrupted Finn's reply. When he looked at the screen, he blanched. "Uh… sorry, but I'd better take this." He put the phone to his ear while Rachel watched curiously. "Hello?"

" _Oh, thank god,"_  said Adam. _"Jacob, he's there. Yes, I know, you can say I told you so later. Finn, do you have access to a car tonight?"_

"Uh… maybe?" He looked over at Rachel. "What's going on?"

" _I'm at the airport. The little one where Carl picked me up for Valentine's Day."_

"You're in  _Lima?"_  Finn yelped. "Dude. Does Kurt know? I'm sure Puck doesn't."

" _I didn't tell anybody we were coming. It's only for one night, it's all I could spare, but — I needed to see them. Things have been so crazy, but I had our flight home rerouted. It's just me and Jacob; everybody else went home."_  He sighed.  _"Jacob's been trying to tell me it was a mistake to try to surprise them, that I should have called."_

"Maybe," Finn agreed. "They totally miss you. But, dude, I'm driving back from Akron. Puck's in the truck in front of me, and Kurt's at home. Maybe you should get him to pick you up."

Adam sounded affronted.  _"I've made it this far without ruining the surprise."_

"Well, I won't be home for another hour and a half. You want to call my mom?"

" _You don't think she'd mind?"_

"Honestly, I think she might have some questions about why you haven't been calling Puck and Kurt. But no, totally, she'd come pick you up. You want me to call her?"

" _I have her number. Unless you think she'd be more likely to say yes if you asked."_

"Well, uh… I'm kind of in the car with Rachel."

" _Oh, yeah?"_  Adam's teasing made him roll his eyes a little. " _The two of you have been spending a lot of time together, I hear."_

"Yeah. It's complicated. Anyway… I won't see you at Kurt's, but have a good time."

He knew any of the actual questions he had for Adam would have to wait. Rachel really didn't need any more gossip about Puck and Kurt's secret affair.

"It's complicated?" she said softly, looking at him pointedly. "You were talking about me."

"You're more complicated than I'm willing to get into over the phone."

She looked out the window. "I'm not sure what's complicated about it. I'm not willing to go out with you when you're dating other people."

"I'm not  _dating_  them, Rach," he corrected. "It's way more intense than that. I can't imagine losing any of them."  _Even your dad,_ he didn't say _._  "They're my family."

She sniffed. "Well, it sounds like you have your answer, then."

"No matter how I feel about you?"

She gave him an oblique look. "Am I your family?"

"I feel like you could be," he said. "I don't really know what would be possible. I don't think anything's going to change for me, though."

"Well, until they do, can you stop telling people I'm your girlfriend?"

Her tone was polite, not angry, but Finn felt embarrassed anyway.

"I'm sorry."

"I care about you, too, Finn," she said. "I don't want to stop spending time with you, or… stop doing anything we're doing. Just let me have a little control over what names we use." She nodded at the phone briskly, changing the subject. "Was that the boy from California? The one Kurt's always  _not_  talking about?"

"Yeah. He's in town for a surprise visit."

"Why don't we go pick him up?" she asked. "I wouldn't mind meeting him."

Finn shook his head. "I'm… having a fight with Kurt. I don't think he'd want to see me right now."

He welcomed Rachel's sympathetic expression, but that was all Finn was going to say about the fight. He wasn't going to explain how he himself hadn't actually done anything wrong, and Kurt was angry for not wanting Kurt to hang out with his new buddy Karofsky.

There were just too many things making Finn angry or sad that he couldn't talk about with Rachel. He could definitely see Puck's justification for wanting to tell Shelby everything. It was pissing him off to be keeping so many secrets from his own friends.

Finn brought Rachel home, parked her dads' car in the driveway, and hiked his backpack up on his shoulders. "I'll just walk from here."

She shook her head. "It's two miles, Finn. In the dark? Why don't you let my Daddy drive you home?"

The joke in his head would be lost on her. Seriously, he was going to have to watch himself. If Carl had kept this secret this long from his own daughter, there definitely had to be a reason. He just smiled and said, "I'll be fine. Good night."

Before he was even out of sight of her house, he had his phone out and was calling Carl.

" _Finn."_  It wasn't Carl on the other end, but Angela. Finn immediately felt angry to hear her voice, and then, almost as quickly, felt guilty for that reaction.

"Hey," he said. "Isn't this Carl's direct line?"

" _He had a prior commitment tonight. He had his calls redirected to me, with instructions to only take important ones. I suspect there would be nothing more important than you. Can he call you back later?"_

He tried not to sigh. "Yeah, that's fine."

" _He shouldn't be any later than eleven. I know he'll be glad you called, Finn. He's been trying to reach you."_

"I've got to go," he blurted, and hung up.

He felt bad about that, too, but he couldn't stay on the line another second and not say something about Rachel, and he had no idea if Angela knew or not. Although, now that he thought about it, there was practically no way she  _couldn't_  know. She knew everything about Carl.

Finn didn't have much choice at this point. He called his mom. She picked up after five rings, amid road noise.  _"Finn? Are you home yet?"_

"I dropped Rachel and her car off at her house. Did Adam call you?"

" _He's right here. I'm taking him back to the house now. Honey, let me just bring you back with me and you can talk to Burt —"_

"Not tonight," Finn said. "Not with Adam here. I'm not going to get in the way." He kept his voice as even as he could. "But I could use a ride, actually. I'm about six blocks from Faurot Park. Can you pick me up and drop me off back at — at the house?"

" _Honey."_  She sounded so unhappy.  _"You're not going to let things go on like this with Burt, are you?"_

"Mom, I can't deal with this right now," he said tightly. "If you want to help, pick me up. Otherwise, I'll walk home."

" _No, Finn. I'm on my way. Faurot Park, by the entrance."_

He arrived before she did. The longer he waited, the angrier he got, until by the time she pulled up, he was clenching his hands into fists to exhibit some kind of control over his body. He stuffed his backpack into the trunk next to Adam and Jacob's suitcases and climbed into the back seat beside Adam. Adam was smiling, but when he saw Finn's expression, it faded quickly.

"What's going on?" Adam asked.

"You," Finn snapped. "You think you can show up after two weeks of practically no contact and make everything okay with them?"

"Honey," his mom protested, but Finn cut her off.

"No, you can't make apologies for him! You don't get a free pass just because you're busy with your stuff. We've all got our stuff, man. Kurt and Puck deserve better than being ignored. Especially Puck. You said you wanted to take care of him, and he's been a mess. You  _told_  him to call you every night."

Adam was nodding. Now Finn could see the signs of strain on his face. Even in the grey-silver light of streetlights at nine-thirty, Finn could tell he was exhausted. Under the makeup, Finn could see dark shadows under his eyes.

"I know," Adam said quietly. "I told him to expect me not to be available, but… it's been so much harder…"

Finn crossed his arms. "Well, that's not good enough."

"Finn," Jacob said. Finn looked at him, trying not to scowl. He looked serious. "Adam's been struggling too. This isn't easy for anybody."

"No, don't make excuses for me." Adam sighed. "I'm here to apologize, and try again. That's all I know how to do."

"Do you even know what Kurt did? He's given Dave Karofsky a free pass. Yeah, this is the guy who trapped him inside a locker for hours, and I'm pretty sure he's the one who broke Kurt's wrist freshman year. And Kurt's just letting him off, just because —" He cut himself off. He wasn't going to say  _why,_  not in front of his mom. "But today at school, he was being his usual asshole self. Kurt was  _defending_ him. And Puck… "

Finn trailed off as he realized that Adam was crying.

"Hey," Finn said.

Adam put the back of his hand to his trembling mouth, trying to wave off Jacob's and his mom's concern.

"I'm fine," he said, his voice distorted and thick with tears. "Just — I'm sorry, this isn't what I wanted…"

"He needs to get out," Jacob said. He was already climbing out of the car and opening Adam's door, pulling him out to stand beside him. Finn and his mom got out too, looking at Adam in concern.

"Is there anything I can do?" his mom said.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Adam was muttering, taking deep breaths and wiping his eyes. Jacob handed him a tissue. "Jesus, what a mess. Just give me a minute."

Finn approached him, his mother silently urging him over. "Um, the police will be here eventually to kick us out of the park. It closes at dusk. But we could probably walk a little ways. Down the path, this way." He looked at Jacob. "Okay if we walk, just the two of us?"

"I'll be twenty feet behind you," Jacob said. "Too far to hear what you say, unless either one of you yell."

"I'll wait here, until you're ready to come back," said his mom.

Finn walked beside him as Adam collected himself, blowing his nose. He passed Adam the handkerchief from his pocket. Adam smiled through his tears, holding it up, touching the monogram between two fingers.

"It's Kurt's," said Finn.

"I know. He left one of his handkerchiefs after he visited. I still have it."

"Kurt makes me carry them now." Finn smiled back tentatively. "Are… you okay?"

He snorted. "I think the answer is a pretty obvious  _no."_

"Yeah, I thought maybe." He hesitated, then added, "Timothy called Carl a few weeks back. He said you were having a hard time."

"God." Adam groaned, scrubbing his face. "I'm totally embarrassed that  _Timothy's_ calling me out. But he's right."

Finn nodded uncomfortably. "Why, uh… what's going on?"

Adam sighed. "The thing they don't tell you about being on the road is, everybody gets to see your shit. You can't put yourself together and show up and start fresh every day. You're all stuffed together on the airplane and the hotel and the bus, and you  _never get time_  to yourself. Never. Jacob does his best to keep them off, but he's stretched thin as it is. I can't ask him to take on one more thing."

"Lying is hard work," Finn said. Adam nodded vigorously.

"I'm beginning to see what it must be like to be closeted. God, how do you do it?"

"Not very well," Finn admitted.

Adam stared up at the cloudy sky. "You say Kurt's making friends with this Karofsky kid? Maybe he's seeing something we didn't."

"Yeah. That's  _exactly_  what he's seeing. I couldn't say anything in front of my mom, I said I wouldn't, but… apparently Dave plays for our team."

"I can't say I'm all that surprised. I've known my share of homophobic jocks who came out later." Adam raised a pointed eyebrow at Finn. "Noah and you would be prime examples."

"I'm  _not_  Karofsky!" Finn paused on the sidewalk to face him. "I can't believe Kurt's just going to let him keep treating him like shit."

"You're saying Kurt's going along with Karofsky keeping being a jerk to him at school?" Adam asked. Finn nodded. "Well, how do you know it's not just fake, like the way he and Noah handled it?"

"It's  _not_  like it was with Puck. Kurt  _loved_ him." Finn shook his head. "I'm not going to accept Kurt being harassed for being different and to do nothing about it. Because he's  _not_  different. I'm just like him."

"Apparently, so is Karofsky."

"Yeah," Finn said. He went on walking, Adam falling into step beside him. "I just… I have to do  _something."_

"You're moving back into the house."

"I was." His voice was glum, and as he heard it, he immediately straightened up. He wasn't going to whine about it. Carl would never stand for that. "His dad told me I couldn't move in, but it was just a misunderstanding. So, yeah, I think I am."

"But you moved out before." Adam's tears were gone now. He looked over at Finn. "What's changed?"

It wasn't like Finn hadn't thought about it a hundred times already. "I'm more clear," he said. "Part of it's what Carl's done for me, the discipline. I've got more control, inside myself. But I think it's also Blaine."

"Blaine?" Adam repeated. Finn flushed.

"Um, Patrick," he said. "If you could please use that name with Kurt —"

"It's fine," Adam said, shaking his head. "I won't say anything. We all have secrets. Go on. What did Patrick — Blaine — do for you?"

"He still does. It's not so different from the way it is with you and Puck. Taking care of him makes me more centered, more stable."

"I think it's pretty clear what Noah needs to be more centered and stable." Adam's voice was wry. "He's definitely getting that right now, and you're all helping. So, okay. What does Kurt need?"

Finn thought. "You," he said.

"Well, I can't be there," Adam said. His voice was more steady than it had been, but Finn could still hear the strain. It made his heart ache. He knew how that felt, to know what needed to be done, and not to be able to be there to do it. "What else?"

"Me," Finn admitted.

"Yeah. It has to be you."

Finn shifted uncomfortably. "But… you're the one who does the grand romantic gesture thing that he loves so much. I don't know how to do that."

"Sure you do." Adam smiled, a little bitter. "I'm counting on you to do the grand romantic gestures on my behalf. Don't let him think you don't love him like that. I know you do. I could see it, that night in his room at Tessera."

Finn didn't need clarification to know what night he meant. He nodded, looking at his shoes. Adam reached out and touched his arm.

"You taught me, that weekend," he said gently. "Just like you taught me when you called me this winter — back before we even knew one another — and asked me to write that song for Noah. You're exactly the man both of them need."

"I can't do the things you do," Finn protested.

Adam turned his gaze down the path, wiping his eyes again. "Sometimes I think the things I do are less about who I am and more about what they need. I do those things because they need them. But you, you do them because  _you need_  them. You're the kind of Top I pretend to be, Finn. I'm a good actor, but… sometimes I just want to be the one to fall apart."

"I know how that feels," Finn said fervently.

Adam nodded. "Yeah. I guess you do."

"I do. I'm a better man because I get that from Carl. He can't give me everything I want, but he gives me that." He cleared his throat, refusing to give in to the choking emotion. "He gives me… so much. I could never give Kurt and Puck and Blaine what they need without that."

"Kurt and I have switched it up a little, but what you have with Carl…" Adam shook his head. "To be honest, I'm not sure I could ever let someone else have that much control over me."

Finn nodded. "I get that. I didn't think I could, either. Maybe you won't want to, ever, but… if you do, I hope you find the right person to do it for you."

They saw the headlights of a car, pulling into the park behind them. Finn turned around, back the way they came.

"We'd better go back to the car."

Jacob waited on the side of the path for them to pass him, then resumed his position trailing twenty feet behind them as they resumed their walk.

"Do you remember," said Adam, "at Tessera, when your mom and Tess both wore red dresses to the Valentine's Day lunch?"

"I remember," Finn said. "That was the time my mom freaked out about something and took off."

"That wasn't what I remembered, but okay. I was thinking about what your mom said, how there's something about a red dress that makes a woman feel glamorous, no matter who she is.  _That's_  that outrageous romantic gesture you were talking about." Adam nodded at Finn.  _"_ Gaga met the Queen of England in a red dress, you know."

Finn chuckled. "No kidding."

"Yeah." Adam reached out and took his hand, and Finn, startled, squeezed it once before Adam dropped it again. "You might as well accept your own queen, honey. He's never going to let you have control over him, not when he knows he's right."

"Kurt's my queen," Finn murmured. He smiled. "Yeah, I can see that. So who's Puck?"

"Oh, that's easy." Adam smiled back. "He's Starchild. The KISS outfit came much later than the original, but it's not so different. He's a charismatic, bisexual visitor from another planet, just like Bowie's Ziggy persona, looking to change the world, one lover at a time."

Finn was still smiling when they got back to the car, where the police officer was talking to Jacob and his mom. The officer looked a little floored to see Adam.

"No kidding," he said. "You really are Adam Lambert."

"I actually am," Adam agreed. "And I can't tell you how much I would appreciate it if the press never, ever discovered I was in Lima."

"They won't hear it from me," the officer promised. "But you're going to have to clear out of the park."

"We're heading home, officer," his mom said. "Come on, boys, into the car. Good night."

Jacob turned around in his seat, looking Adam over, then Finn. "You look better."

"I think I'll be better once I see Noah and Kurt," Adam said. "But I think we resolved a few things."

Finn had a sudden flash of an idea. "Mom, can you drop me off at Carl's instead of at home? I promise I won't stay late. I just have to talk to Angela about something."

"All right, honey." She signaled to turn left out of the park. "Before I forget, I wanted to tell you… we met with the social worker in charge of Sarah's case. She wanted to schedule the house visit right away when told her we were moving in together. She gave us a very clear explanation of what the home inspector would be looking for, and what we would need to have in place to meet the criteria. Burt's house isn't going to meet them."

"I know," said Finn. "Did you tell them about Matt's house?"

"Burt and I are still talking about options. I just wanted you to know we're not going to be able to stay there very much longer. They gave us a deadline of September for the home inspection, so we're going to have to have a solution by then, or else split up again." She glanced back at him. "I think we'll be leaving all our winter clothes in those boxes. Oh, well. It'll be okay. Jacob, when are the two of you flying out tomorrow?"

"Our first leg's leaving for Minnesota just after noon. I wish I could promise Adam won't keep Kurt and Puck up too late, but I might suggest they stay home tomorrow morning."

"I might be able to talk Burt into that," she said with a smile. "I can already tell, I'm going to be the fun parent in this clan."

She slowed down as she approached Carl's house, hesitating about six houses away.

"Do… should I be careful? Do you need to get out further away than this?"

"This is fine, Mom." He opened the door and got out, waving through the window at Adam and Jacob. "Thanks for the ride. It was good to see you guys. Have, uh."  _Have fun_  was both embarrassing and inadequate, and he just left it at that.

"Thank you, Finn." Adam gave him a genuine smile. "Think about what you can do for your queen, all right? And I hope you can forgive me for placing the burden on you."

"No," Finn said. "No, I'm… I'm fine with it." The responsibility didn't feel like too much, not like it had earlier in the year. He could only thank Carl, and Blaine, for what they'd given him, and the person he was becoming.

He waited until his mom had driven away, then he went around to the side entrance and rang the bell. Angela met him there, obviously surprised by his presence, but she invited him right in.

"Can I get you something to eat?" she asked. Finn realized he was starving, and let her bring him a plate of chicken stew over rice, and ate all of it.

"This is good," he said, his mouth full. She smiled.

"You have your own chef at your house," Angela said. "I know well enough how skilled he is."

"I haven't actually been living there very long. I kind of got kicked out this week, even. But I'll fix it," he added at her stricken look. "That's part of why I'm here. I could use your help with the sewing machine again. And, uh, the red shower curtain from the upstairs guest bathroom?"

Once they had the shower curtain, Angela let Finn use the household computer to look up pictures of Gaga meeting the queen in her red dress. She looked over his shoulder and nodded thoughtfully. "I can do that. Stand up, and hold still."

Finn did so, waiting while Angela pinched and trimmed and drew lines with a black Sharpie, and finally cut the whole thing up and pinned it together. With Angela there to help him, they made short work of the shower curtain.

By the time Carl arrived home, Finn was feeling a lot better, enough that he let Carl lead him out of the room to thoroughly hug and kiss him.

"My boy," Carl whispered, and Finn sighed, relaxing against him. Finn didn't mention one word about Carl smelling like Ms. Pillsbury's perfume, and Carl didn't say anything about the calls Finn hadn't returned. It didn't feel like avoidance. It felt like forgiveness.

He walked back with Finn to where Angela was holding up the finished dress.

"Craft project?" Carl guessed. He was staying very close to Finn, and Finn wasn't objecting.

"Gaga," Angela said. "Finn's defecting to the feminine side of theatricality."

"She's not all that feminine," Finn told her. "Whatever that means in the first place. All I know is, she's pretty awesome in a dress. I can be awesome in a dress, too. I want Kurt to know two things. One, that no matter what's going on with Dave Karofsky, no matter how much  _pretend_  bullying or  _real_  bullying he dishes out to Kurt, or Puck, I'm not going to stand for it. I might not be able to be out about Kurt being my boyfriend yet, but I'm sure as hell going to be living with him. People can see him as my brother for all I care. And nobody's going to beat him up."

Carl was all but glowing with silent pride. "What's the second thing?"

"I want Kurt to know that he's my queen," Finn said. They all laughed, even Finn. "Seriously. I can be in charge of him, but he still rules me, you know?"

"Oh, yes," Carl said. "I know."

* * *

They finished the tune-up quickly, but Kurt stuck around the garage afterward, sorting papers at his dad's desk and moving the vehicles inside for tomorrow's morning repairs. Eventually there wasn't anything left to do. Kurt turned off the lights in the back of the garage, watching the Impala disappear into shadow.

"Thanks for your help," Luke said, locking the front door. "You'd better get home, huh? You want a ride?"

"It's not far," said Kurt. "I've walked it a thousand times."

He wore the coveralls, now grimy with oil. Even this late at night in April, he didn't need to risk putting his jacket on over them to keep himself warm. But as he slipped his hand into the pocket of his jacket, he felt his phone vibrating. He pulled it out. There were three messages, all from Puck. With a pounding heart, he called him back.

"Noah?" he said. "What's wrong?"

" _Kurt,"_  said Noah, his voice choked.  _"Where are you?"_

"I'm at the garage." He glanced out the window anxiously. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize I'd be there this long. Are you okay?"

" _Just come home. Now. I — you're not going to want to wait."_

Kurt was already jogging along Jefferson toward his house. "I'm coming, sweetheart. I'll be right there."

He broke into a run, one he knew he couldn't sustain for eight blocks, but he did his damnedest. Whatever was wrong with Puck, all he could think was,  _I need to be there with him._  It was enough to keep him moving at top speed until he reached the house, climbed the stairs and burst through the front door. The suitcases in the front hall almost made him panic.

"Noah?" he called, his voice high and sharp.

"Kurt," said his dad. He came around the corner into the front hallway from the kitchen, smiling. "There you are. Don't you answer your calls anymore?"

"Dad, what's going on?" he demanded, as he tried to catch his breath.

There was a familiar laugh from the kitchen, one that caused him to stagger and question his sanity — until Adam rounded the corner. His eyes lit up at the sight of Kurt.

"Oh my god," he said. "Noah wasn't kidding about you in mechanic persona. The oil smudges? Totally hot."

Kurt was already in his arms by the time he finished the first sentence, kissing and being kissed and laughing and crying all at the same time.

"I'm a mess," he said.

Adam kissed his tears and held him tighter. "Like I care about that. That's why God invented dry cleaners."

"Yeah… heh." His dad retreated a few steps. "We're just gonna be upstairs. Lock up before bed, okay, Kurt? And, Adam, he's got school tomorrow."

"Burt," Kurt heard Carole say, her tone scolding, and his dad disappeared up the stairs, protesting. Kurt barely noticed any of it. He cupped Adam's face in both hands, looking at him in amazement.

"What are you  _doing_  here?" he asked, his voice breaking.

"Taking advantage of what time I have," said Adam. "I've been a pretty crappy boyfriend these last couple weeks. I didn't think words of apology were going to cut it. So I booked my connection through Lima. Jacob insisted on coming with me, but I'm here to see you, and Noah."

Kurt's eyes widened. "Noah," he repeated, taking Adam's hand and rushing into the kitchen.

He needn't have worried. Puck was leaning against the stove beside Sarah and Jacob, eating a bowl of whatever had been in Sarah's crockpot.

"… and we're gonna have to work out the schedule, who gets her when, but that's the idea," he was saying to Jacob. He grinned at Kurt and Adam, looking far more relaxed than he had for weeks. "You've got oil on your cheek, baby. No, the other one."

"You scared me!" Kurt accused, rubbing the other cheek. Puck snickered, reaching out with the dishtowel to wipe his face.

"I wasn't faking. You really did need to come home. Here, let me."

"Hey, leave it," Adam said. "He's so hot when he's dirty."

"I really don't need to hear that," Sarah said complacently. She clearly wasn't leaving Puck's side.

Kurt slid an arm around Adam and pressed his nose into his shirt collar, taking a deep breath of Adam's sweet, green scent. As he did so, he felt some of the stress of the past weeks begin to subside. Adam gave him a squeeze and hummed happily.

"Carole said you dropped Finn off at Carl's?" Puck said. Adam nodded.

"We had a chance to talk, and that was good, but he's not coming over tonight. I think it's more to give us time alone than to put off dealing with your dad. Whatever's going on, he didn't seem too worried about it."

"It was just a misunderstanding," Kurt sighed.

"Yeah, that's what he said." Adam's hand tightened on Kurt's hip. "He told me about Karofsky."

Kurt shot a look at Puck, who was watching him curiously. "I… yeah. He and I have come to our own understanding."

"You've forgiven him for the awful things he did to you?"

Under the gentle barrage of Adam's inquisition, there surrounded by his smell and the sound of him and his presence, Kurt didn't feel like resisting. "I understand him better now. The reasons behind his actions. They're not so different from what Noah and I were doing earlier in the year."

"He… wait." Puck's curiosity had sharpened. "You're telling me  _Karofsky…?"_

"Noah, don't be so surprised," Adam said, smiling. "Acting out, because he was scared and angry. Isn't that what you did last year with Kurt?"

"I apologized," Puck protested.

"So did David." Kurt reached out a hand, and Puck immediately came to him, tucking himself in on Kurt's other side. "And we are  _not_  going to say anything. To anybody. I promised."

"No wonder Finn was freaking out," Puck murmured. "Karofsky, combined with this thing with Carl and Rachel…"

Adam looked over at Jacob. "What thing with Carl and Rachel?"

"Dude." Puck's face sobered. "Kurt, I didn't tell you. Rachel found out who her real mother is, but it turns out she still doesn't know who her real  _dad_  is."

"Her real —?" Adam began, then cut himself off abruptly.

Kurt sucked in a breath. "Oh my god."  _Rachel's father._ Even in the midst of Adam's surprise appearance, his mind whirled.

"Yeah," Puck said grimly. "Finn's… taking it pretty hard."

"I can't even imagine," Adam said. He looked over at Jacob, just a subtle tilt of his eyes, but Jacob stood up, touching Sarah's shoulder.

"I hear your room got redecorated. You want to show me?"

As soon as they were out of earshot, Adam moved to follow, steering Puck and Kurt along with him. "Come on. It's already getting late. Jacob's going to sleep on the couch downstairs. We can continue this conversation in the shower. I've been flying all day and I  _need_  to get out of these clothes."

"Hell, yeah," Puck breathed, and hurried down the stairs.

Kurt held tight to Adam's arm all the way through the maze of boxes into his bedroom. If he had his way, he wasn't going to let Adam out of his sight the entire time he was here.

"How long do we have?" Kurt asked.

Adam grimaced in apology. "Not very long. We're leaving tomorrow morning. Not too early, at least. You might even be allowed to sleep in, if Finn's mom has anything to say about it."

"I'm not going to complain, no matter what happens. This is —" He shook his head in disbelief. "I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything." Adam nudged the door to Kurt's room closed, then pushing him up against the back of it and kissing him emphatically. "Just let me spend the rest of the night doing my best to make up for my absence."

* * *

"Don't even try to convince me they're going to get any sleep," Burt said, resting his head in his hand.

Carole shut the door to his bedroom —  _their_  bedroom, at least for now — and fixed him with a look. "I think I was not willing to say no to something that was obviously going to help two very sad boys relax. Whatever you feel about their relationship —"

"I have nothing bad to say about their relationship." Burt gave her a petulant look in return. "Don't put this on me. Adam should know better than to show up here in the middle of the school week —"

"It's a Friday, Burt."

"—in the middle of the school week, we already took an extra day off for Valentine's day —"

"Which was almost two months ago. Have you noticed what kind of things Adam has been up to since then?"

He shook his head. "How can I  _not_  see? He's on the cover of practically every magazine at the grocery store. He was one of People Magazine's Most Beautiful this month."

She wasn't going to ask how he knew that. "Well, then, you know he's been under a lot of pressure."

Burt glared at her. "This isn't about Adam. It's about Finn, isn't it?"

"I have no idea what's going on with Finn. He's refusing to talk with me about it." She sat down beside him on the edge of the bed and put a hand on his knee. "But I have to assume it has something to do with Kurt and David Karofsky."

"That snot-nosed little —?" he fumed. "What's he doing to Kurt now?"

"I think you're going to need to get the answers from Finn yourself, honey."

"Jesus." Burt rolled his eyes. "Not another boy. I'm seriously running out of room at the dining room table."

"We'll get a bigger table."

He stared at the door. "We'll have to. A bigger dining room, more like."

Carole toed off her shoes and left them in a heap on the floor as she took off her socks. "I got an offer on the house today."

"Hey… that's great!" Burt sounded genuinely pleased. "And that was quick."

"Maybe too quick." She nodded at the door. "They're aware of what's going on, especially Finn. He said he knew that we couldn't stay here, that the house is just too small for all of us. He asked me about the Rutherford place."

Burt didn't say anything as he unbuttoned his shirt and smoothed it out before draping it over the back of the chair next to the closet. "You're going to have to convince me why making an offer on it is a bad idea. The price is right, and the location's close to where you are now. Nobody would have to change schools."

"I know. On paper, it makes perfect sense." She walked to the window and looked out onto the street. "But that neighborhood, Burt… I know the kind of families who live there. We would be under  _more_  scrutiny in that house, on that street, not to mention a target of all the gossip."

"People already say plenty about Kurt," Burt said, but he looked uneasy. She smiled at him.

"I know you care what other people think. You don't become public face in this town for almost two decades without making a lot of friends. You're careful not to put a negative spin on anything having to do with your family."

He shook his head. "It's not like I'm going into politics, Carole."

"No, you're adopting an eleven-year-old girl and her seventeen-year-old brother. And you're moving in with me."

"Oh, really?" Now he was smiling back, that quirky grin that made her want to melt. "Last I checked, you were moving in with me."

"Burt." She shook her head. "We can't push the home inspection back any further than September. At that point, we're going to need to be settled somewhere other than here."

"I know."

"We can't all fit into your house."

"I know," he said again.

He stood up and came over to the window, putting his arms around her. She leaned back against him with a sigh.

"Were you serious about putting on an addition?"

"Not really." He held on a little tighter. "It's… a crazy plan. I know that. The craziest part is that in four years, it'll just be me and Sarah left here." He placed a kiss on her cheek. "And you, if things work out. That would be one hell of a house for three people. And then what?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. It seems like a big house might be a worthwhile thing to have around, as time passes."

"You think you can keep your kids around forever if you give them a nice house?"

"No, but maybe I can give them a reason to come home more often." Carole intertwined her fingers with Burt's. "There'll be one baby, starting next month. I'll bet you dollars to donuts Finn and Kurt both end up having kids too. Probably not with each other, granted…"

"Which would imply  _more_ grandkids, not fewer," Burt added. "And god knows what their future is going to look like. I don't want to be tripping over boyfriends every time I turn around. Or girlfriends, for that matter."

Carole turned in his embrace and faced him, smiling curiously. "You're really thinking about saying yes."

"It's extravagant, no doubt," he said. "But Sarah's plan, it's financially sound. Geoff Forrester down at the bank can't find one damn thing wrong with it, other than  _that's too much house for one family._ " He grinned, shaking his head. "He doesn't know the half of it."

She had to kiss him before he said anything else. That went on for rather longer than she'd anticipated. Eventually they paused for breath.

"We wouldn't really let Timothy spend his inheritance on this," she said. Burt shook his head.

"I wouldn't feel comfortable with letting anybody else take the financial risk. I've already looked into the terms on an equity loan on the garage. Geoff has the paperwork drawn up, waiting for my word."

She laughed. "You've been doing the legwork. Sounds like I wasn't the only one taking this seriously."

"Well, I knew you were meeting with Mr. Preston and the architects who looked over Sarah's plans. Whatever needs to be fixed, they'll find it." He looked a little sheepish. "And, uh, maybe I've been checking out some possible land parcels not too far outside of town."

"Privacy." Carole kissed him again. "I like the sound of that, Mr. Hummel."

"Yeah?" His cheeks were pink, just like Kurt's were when he was excited about something. "I notice you're not trying to talk me out of the idea."

She took a moment before replying. "The last time anybody asked me to move in with them, I was nineteen and pregnant. I wasn't anywhere near ready to say yes, to her or anybody. In fact, I wasn't at all sure I would ever be ready to share a house with anyone else again. Remember, I grew up with eight brothers and sisters. I got really used to it just being me and Finn." She smiled. "Although we have a family reunion scheduled for this summer."

Burt looked surprised. "I'm invited?"

"Of course you are, silly. I'm sure they'll all love you."

He sounded suddenly nervous. "You think so?"

"Oh, I know so. You're not an African-American lesbian, for one thing." She laughed at his expression. "Okay, that's the most superficial, judgmental reason, but I can think of lots of other reasons they'll like you too."

"Yeah, I'm not sure I care much for racism and homophobia working in my favor, but… thanks." He kissed her again. "There's another reason I want to do it."

Carole waited. "Okay?"

"Sarah's been through so much. Call me a pushover, but I can't help think I would really like to be able to help give her the house of her dreams."

"You're a pushover," she said, smiling, but his face was solemn. He touched her cheek.

"The house of your dreams, too," he said. "You think… maybe, you might be ready to let me make it a wedding present?"

Carole paused, savoring the idea for just a moment, before hugging him fiercely.

"I think we'd be better off living together for a little while, at least," she said. "Until we can settle what's going on with Puck and Sarah. That'll take time. And building a house — especially  _that_  house — is an expensive prospect. I'd rather wait until we're done with that to consider… a wedding."

He hugged her back. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse. "I notice you're not quite saying no to that, either?"

"I'm saying we have a few other issues to take care of first. For example… if we're really going to build a home together, Burt, you can be sure I'll have lots of things I'd like to see in it. But at the top of my list would be you  _and_  my son." She waited until he nodded and looked away. "Can you please consider that if we're really moving in together, you can't make decisions about what happens in  _your_  house without involving me? And especially if it involves  _any_  of these boys we'll be caring for together?"

Burt nodded slowly. "I can. Can  _you_  accept that I'm going to have a no-tolerance policy about intolerance? Especially that type of intolerance. I worked hard enough to train myself out of it to put up with it in my kids or their boyfriends."

"See, how could I disagree with that?" she said, smiling. "I'm just saying, in this case, I think maybe you reacted a little quickly to judge what Finn was saying. Because I know my son."

Burt heaved a sigh. "All right. I can believe that. Maybe in the moment I was a little too harsh with him. Just, when I hear those words coming out of anybody's mouth, directed at  _Kurt…_ "

"You get a little protective. I know." She kissed him again. "I love you for it."

"You still haven't answered me," he said.

"I haven't." Carole touched his heart. "Ask me again when we're done painting our new house."


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam spends the night with Puck and Kurt and tells them his news. Finn wears his red dress to Glee. The boys learn about Carole and Burt's plans over dinner. Puck asks for what he needs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been months and months since I included smut in this story, so warning for m/m/m. More quoting from 1x20 Theatricality. 
> 
> -amy

The bed was crowded with three in it. Kurt had never been so aware of that fact as he was that morning, sitting cross-legged at the foot of the bed, watching Adam and Puck sleep. Puck had more than willingly allowed Adam to tie him to the bed, the loops on his wrists cinched tightly enough to keep him splayed on his back for as long as Adam wanted him there. This meant Puck's prone form took up most of the center of the bed. Afterward, Adam lay on one side and Kurt on the other, resting their heads on Puck's back, gazing into each other's eyes, and spoke in murmured tones until they both fell asleep. But it wasn't exactly comfortable, and when Kurt woke up at four-thirty, his neck cramping, he crawled out of bed and got his phone before returning to curl up in the empty space below them.

He kept reaching out and  _almost_  touching them, then pulling his hand back at the last minute to avoid waking them. Adam had untied Puck and was wrapped around him, holding his arms bound in front of him in a possessive full-body hold. Puck's head was tucked securely against Adam, his breathing heavy and even. Kurt watched Puck carefully, the spread of his lashes on his cheeks, the curve of his lips. Puck was sleeping soundly, which all by itself was a rare occurrence, and Kurt seldom had the opportunity to just  _look_  at him this way.

"Kurt," Adam murmured. Kurt's eyes snapped over to Adam. He was smiling, his eyes half-lidded. "Why are you all the way down there?"

"No room," he whispered. "Okay, and maybe I wanted to take some pictures."

"Pictures!" Adam jerked back, causing Puck to stir.

"I won't do anything with them," Kurt said hastily, "I promise, I'm just… it's only for me. Shh. Let him sleep."

Adam looked down at the boy in his arms, the way Puck was turning his head to nuzzle his chest. Puck's lips grazed Adam's triplet tattoo, making both Kurt and Adam take a breath.

"Has he been having trouble sleeping? More than usual, I mean?"

"Maybe a little more than usual. I don't always know how he sleeps, honestly. He usually sleeps here, but sometimes he's upstairs in my dad's old office. That'll be the baby's room, starting next month."

In the time between stripping off their clothes and falling asleep last night, they hadn't exactly done a lot of talking, but Kurt remembered Adam asking two questions about Puck's daughter. One was,  _can I buy her pink,_  and the other was  _what's the countdown to Quinn's due date?_  Puck had said, immediately,  _yes, please, sir, and three weeks, five days._

"He's going to be a father." Adam's face was so pleased, Kurt couldn't suppress his own smile. "My boy." He looked helplessly at Kurt. "I have no idea what to do about that."

"I think none of us do, yet," Kurt admitted. He gave in to the desire to touch, and slid his hand up Adam's pale bare torso to rest on his hand, on top of Puck's. Adam shifted a little, and he beckoned with his finger for Kurt to come closer, closer. Kurt moved in, curiously, but he was startled enough when Adam surged up and kissed him that he made a little noise in his throat.

"I'm so proud of both of you," Adam whispered against his lips, his eyes bright. "There's nothing you can do that would change that. And, god, do you know how beautiful you are?"

"Adam," he said, smiling, the blush overtaking his face. Adam shook his head.

"I'm completely serious. I forget these things when I don't see you for a while, and then I wonder how I could have lost this image of you in my head."

He drew Kurt down for another kiss, this one more insistent. The sensation of Adam's tongue was turning him on beyond what was usually possible at 4 AM. Kurt let the noises escape, and when Adam pushed back the covers to encourage more skin contact, he gave up and climbed onto him, straddling his legs. Adam's delighted expression was deeply satisfying.

"Honey," Adam murmured. He tried to reach up and pull Kurt down on top of him, but Kurt hovered above him, supporting himself on both hands. He shifted one knee between Adam's legs, nudging them apart.

"I know you like to top," he said huskily, watching Adam's eyes dilate in the dim light of the room, "but I just want to be inside you."

Adam chuckled. "You think I'm going to say no to that?" He reached down and pulled his knees up, spreading himself open with a seductive smile. "C'mon. Fuck me."

"God," Kurt groaned. He reached for the drawer beside his bed, where the lube waited for him. It was exclusively there for Puck and himself; Finn hadn't asked for lube once, preferring the tug and tension of nothing but skin and spit. This was something he'd never had the opportunity to do with Adam in his own bed, and just the thought of it was driving him on, making him want it  _now, now._

"I can't promise you'll make me come this way, but you're absolutely welcome to try." He coaxed Kurt down closer against him, encouraging his slippery fingers opening him up. Kurt moaned at the expression on Adam's face, the way his eyelids fluttered and blinked closed as Kurt thrust deeper inside, adding a second and then a third finger almost immediately. "Fuck… yeah, that's it. I'm ready, come on."

"You're ready when I say you're ready," Kurt said. He loved the look of surprise on Adam's face, coupled with obstinacy. Kurt recognized that look, and it gave him a certain amount of staying power, knowing Adam was responding to his control. He crooked his fingers until Adam gasped, then did it again, and again. "I'm not going to fuck you until you are."

The moan Kurt expected didn't come from Adam, but from Puck. His eyes were barely open, but he was breathing heavily, his hips shifting against Adam's hip.

"You like that?" Kurt asked. "You want to help, sweetheart? Want to take him in your mouth?"

Puck was moving before he was formulating words, heaving up onto his knees to crouch over Adam's torso. Adam cried out as Puck took as much of Adam as he could, enthusiastically obeying Kurt's suggestion.

"Yeah," Kurt said with satisfaction, crooking his fingers again, deep inside Adam. "Let me hear it."

Adam wasn't going to take long, not with Puck's talented tongue and lips around his cock, but the moment Kurt felt the tension of his approaching release, he paused, halting Puck's action with one hand. Adam's complaint was delicious.

"You're not going to come like this, hmm?" he said sweetly. "So maybe I should tell Noah to stop?"

"No," Adam begged, thrusting up, seeking Puck's mouth, "no, no — please, don't stop —"

"Oh, it's not so bad, then?" He withdrew his fingers abruptly, relishing Adam's whine. "Maybe you want something else inside you?"

Kurt didn't wait for Adam to ask for it. Instead, he positioned himself above Adam, sinking into him with steady force, until he was buried as deep inside him as he could get. Puck watched hungrily, his hands straying to touch his own stomach, his thighs, the sensitive skin between his legs — anywhere but his own cock, which was off limits.

"You don't  _have_  to like it," Kurt said conversationally, holding still, pressed inside him. Adam squirmed, his cock jumping with every nudge of Kurt's cock against his prostate. "I'm just thinking you might be wrong about that. I think maybe you  _do_  like it."

"Kurt," he moaned.

"Take your time," he said. He didn't move one inch from where he was.

Adam settled down, his breathing becoming more even as he relaxed under the pressure of Kurt's body. Kurt watched it happen with a startled sense of awareness.

"Please," Adam said, his voice completely calm and rational, "would you let me touch myself?"

Puck's reaction would have made Kurt laugh under any other circumstance. He rocked back on his heels, his erect cock jutting out in front of him, completely oblivious to his own arousal, and stared first at Adam, then at Kurt.

"Not yet," Kurt said, equally calm. "Let me tell you when you're ready for it."

Adam's eyes closed at the sound of Puck's low moan, his cock jumping again in reaction. Kurt held his position for one more moment before slowly sliding out of Adam, then filling him again, just as slowly. Puck hands were clenching, but he was well trained enough that he obviously hadn't even considered putting his hands on his own cock. Kurt felt the pride in his boy flood him with confidence.

"I'm going to touch you," he told Adam, "but you're not going to come. Not yet. It's going to take a while, okay?"

"Okay," Adam agreed. His eyes were still closed, his body relaxed. Kurt suppressed the laugh that threatened to emerge from his throat.  _What is going on?_

But he knew the answer. He knew it as well as he knew, himself, how it felt to be helpless under the force of Finn's words — or Adam's. And now, here he was, taking Adam to that place. Maybe it was the first time Adam had ever been there. It felt like the most awesome responsibility, but one he was willing to accept.  _I can do this for him._  He didn't doubt that for a moment.

Kurt leaned over Adam, bending Adam's hips up and supporting his legs as he changed the angle of his penetration. Adam complied, allowing himself to be bent, his breath coming even and slow. As soon as Kurt saw Adam respond differently to his thrusts, he turned to Puck.

"Noah," he said, "your hand. Touch him, here, in between us."

He guided Puck's hand to circle Adam's thick, weeping cock, stroking it slowly. Kurt could feel it stuttering and jumping in Puck's hand, wanting more, but he kept the pace of his thrusts even and measured, not letting Adam's desire to get ahead of his willingness to let Kurt lead.

"Tell me." Kurt let his voice be gentle and soothing. It was what Adam needed, Kurt realized. More than anything, he needed somebody to take care of him. It made his chest ache. "Tell me if you want me to stop."

"No," Adam said immediately. "No, please. Don't stop."

He increased the pace, thrusting deeper, and watched as Puck's hand sped up a fraction. "Tell me if you don't want it."

"No, I want — please, I want it."

Kurt came close to losing it on that declaration, but he managed to keep it steady. He leaned in closer, letting the pressure of his body put further constraints on Puck's motion. Adam was panting now, thrusting back against Kurt's body and Puck's hand with each stroke. "You know I love you so much?"

"Oh, god," Adam cried. He paused his motion, grasping for Kurt's body, clutching him closer. "I can't believe you're saying that to me, after how I treated you."

"Adam." Kurt kept his tone gentle, even as he sped up his pace. "I'm not going to  _stop_  loving you because I miss you. I'm just going to miss you more. Now… are you ready to finish this?"

"Finish this." Adam's response sounded more like a bewildered question than a command.

"You're going to come with me inside you."

Puck let out a choked gasp as Adam cried out, writhing under the pressure of Kurt's body and the sensation of Puck's hand, compressed between their sweaty stomachs. But Kurt wasn't going to let him finish without begging for it. He stopped, and it took only a few moments for Puck to follow suit. Adam groaned in frustration.

"Kurt…"

Kurt smiled, brushing the sweaty wing of hair back from Adam's flushed, freckled face. "Go on."

"Please," he said, his eyes half-lidded. "Just — not too hard, and —"

"Shh," Kurt soothed. "I'll give you just what you need."

"Oh, god,  _Kurt —"_ It was almost a whine. That was all he needed to hear.

"You deserve it, honey. You deserve to have somebody taking care of you." He let the momentum carry him forward, let Adam gasp out his release into Puck's hand as Kurt thrust into him, and followed quickly afterward.

"Holy shit," Puck marveled, grinning. He tugged his sticky hand out from between Kurt and Adam's bodies, gazing down on Adam as he recovered. "That was fucking awesome. Hang on, I'll get a washcloth."

He rolled out of bed and into the bathroom that connected Kurt and Sarah's rooms, leaving Kurt to withdraw carefully from Adam and hold him, listening to his labored breathing.

"You okay?" he asked, cupping Adam's head against his.

Adam nodded, laughing a little. "I'm — yeah." He leaned back, his eyes wet, and looked into Kurt's face. "Don't take this the wrong way, but you've grown up so much."

Kurt smiled. "I know I'm still just sixteen. And that's not really all that impressive."

"Kurt, you're  _really_  impressive," Adam insisted. "Everything you do — your clothes, your music. The way you took control with me, just now." He didn't look embarrassed to admit it. "You improvise. It's like I told you back in January: you take everything good and make it your own."

"I'm…" Kurt kissed him, feeling a little flustered by Adam's enthusiasm. "Thank you."

Puck nudged them over a few inches and climbed back onto Kurt's inadequate mattress, handing Adam the warm, wet washcloth. Naked and still hard, he wasn't making any mention of either. All his attention was on providing service to Adam. "Here. I've got some water, too."

"Such a good boy," Adam said, smiling up at him. Puck beamed back, waiting with the glass in his hand while Adam sat up and wiped himself off. "You've been taking very good care of your family, here. I can tell."

"Doing my best." He bowed his head. "Uh. Adam."

"I know it's not ideal circumstances, with everyone scattered everywhere. And Finn… well, I have faith he can fix things. It'll get better for all of you."

Kurt didn't miss the wistful note in Adam's voice. He accepted the washcloth from Adam and used it to clean his own sticky, sweaty chest. Finally Adam sighed.

"I'm sorry. This was completely hot and awesome. I didn't mean to make it a big pity party about me. I've got some news, and I want to deliver it in person." He smiled, taking Kurt and Puck's hands. "The tour, this summer. It's a go. We're making the announcement on Friday."

"Adam!" Kurt gasped. He threw himself into Adam's arms and hugged him tight. "That's fantastic!"

"Yeah, I know, I'm exhausted and stressed out and so ready to be home, but… this is really what I wanted. What I still want." He didn't sound like he was trying to talk himself into anything; he actually sounded excited. "We're calling it the Glam Nation tour. I've got a performance on Saturday at the GLAAD Media Awards in LA, we'll do the announcement from there. Orianthi's agreed to play guitar for me, I'm  _so_  happy, and Allison Iraheta — you remember her, from Idol? Kickoff's June 4. Jacob will stay home with Timothy while he works on Gaga's album —"

"Wait, wait." Kurt shook his head. "Jacob's staying home? Won't you need him on tour?"

"Well, there'll be all kinds of people managing things," Adam said. He shrugged. "Timothy needs him more than I do."

"That's not what I hear." Kurt frowned. "You're going to be on tour all summer without anybody who knows what you're dealing with, the other half of your life? How's that going to work?"

"Kurt, you don't have to worry about me." Adam kept him close, one arm around him and his voice calm. "I'm going to be too busy to care, and it'll only be four months."

Kurt looked at him in frustration. "Adam, if you think you can handle this alone, you're mistaken. And I'm not saying that because I doubt you as a performer or an amazing person. It's just  _too much_."

Puck looked uneasily between the two of them. "Hey," he said. "We've got, like, four hours before we have to get up and take you back to the airport."

"Yeah." Adam reached out and gathered Puck closer to his other side. He took a long drink from the glass of water and passed it to Kurt. "You've done an admirable job of taking care of me. I think it's my turn."

Kurt took the hint, joining them on the damp sheets. He wasn't going to drop it, but he could save his arguments for another day. Right now, they were together, and he'd better enjoy it.  _Who knows when we'll get that chance again._

* * *

Finn wasn't quite sure how he managed to get from the bathroom to the choir room without anybody seeing him in his bright red Gaga costume, but he was really grateful for it. It might have been the most embarrassed he'd ever felt at school, and that included the time Rick stole his underpants after eighth grade gym class.

"Where's Kurt?" he heard Artie saying, sounding puzzled. "Where's Finn?"

Finn cleared his throat as he stepped through the door. All eyes swiveled to land on him, and the room fell silent. The only smile was on Puck's face. He thought Rachel might be in danger of literally falling out of her chair.

"Fuck. Me." Santana's voice was hushed.

"Language, Santana," Mr. Schue said. His own voice sounded a little strangled. "Uh, Finn, that's… wow."

"It's very red," Brittany pointed out. "Like a tube of lipstick. You match my lobster, Finn."

Tina shook her head. "Since when are you playing for Gaga's team?"

"Since I got a wake-up call about what I wasn't doing," said Finn. "Did you guys realize Kurt's been harassed all week by Karofsky and Azimio for wearing his Gaga outfit? And Puck - and me, for that matter, when I was putting on the KISS makeup."

"They're always picking on us," she said, frowning. "What did you expect? They're jerks."

"That's beside the point." He let his eyes rest on Matt, who looked a little distressed. "It doesn't matter  _why_  they're doing it. It just matters that they  _are._  I want Kurt to know he's not alone. I think we all need to let him know we have his back. There's strength in numbers, guys. Who's with me?"

"Wait!" Mr. Schue's word halted them all in their tracks, but Finn was relieved to note that most of them had stood up and looked ready to follow. "What are you planning to do with them?"

"Nothing physical, Mr. Schue. I just want them to see what they're up against. They can't bully one of us without taking on all of us." He raised his chin. "That's how it is, when you're a family."

Mr. Schue's answering smile spurred the rest of them to join Finn at the door. More than one of them stopped to shake his hand or give him a high-five. Brittany touched his dress admiringly.

"Are you sure you're a dolphin?" she whispered wistfully into his ear.

"Sorry, Britt," he murmured back, grinning. "This is for Kurt."

"Since when do  _you_  plan to be his champion?" Quinn's face was scornful as she fell into step beside him, her pink hoop skirt swinging. "I think he's been doing a pretty good job of taking care of himself."

"I totally agree," he said. "But it's not about protecting him. It's about telling him he's right."

"Right about what?" asked Mercedes on his other side.

"Most things." Finn grinned at their laughter. "I've been a little  _over_ protective, actually. I hope he'll hear me when I say… what I'm about to say."

They didn't have to look far to find Kurt, cornered in the east stairwell by Karofsky and Azimio.

"You want to hit me?" he could hear Kurt's strong voice saying. "You want to beat me up? Go ahead. But I swear to you I will never change. I'm proud to be different. It's the best thing about me. So go ahead: hit me."

"I believe I will," said Azimio. "Sir, would you like to go first?"

"You're not hitting anyone," Finn called out. He nearly tripped on the hem of his dress, but he steadied himself with his hands on his hips, feeling a bit like an impostor. The stunned look on Kurt's face, however, was worth it.

"Oh, my God," he whispered.

Azimio nudged Karofsky. "Is he wearing a red rubber dress or…?"

Dave's own expression was complicated, but Finn was absolutely sure the first thing he saw was relief. It made him relax a little, but he wondered what Dave would have done to Kurt if he hadn't shown up.

"I want to thank you, Kurt." Finn didn't look away from Kurt's incredulous face. "I realize I still have a lot to learn, but the reason I'm here right now — in a shower curtain — is because of you. And I'm not going to let anyone lay a hand on you."

Dave's chuckle was derisive. "Oh, really, dude? 'Cause I'm pretty sure we can take both of you."

"Yeah?" said Puck. Finn turned to grin at the rest of the club, surrounding them. "But can you take all of us?"

"Okay, I get it. I took biology." Azimio pointed at Finn. "You know what, Karofsky? We done disturbed the freak hive. The worker freaks is trying to protect the queen freak."

"Sorry, Azimio." Finn didn't bother to hide his smile. "I'm not the queen here. That would be Kurt."

"Next time?" Dave was already walking away, making threatening gestures. "We'll bring some friends, too."

Rachel sighed, watching them go. "I'm tired of everyone calling us freaks."

"Well, look at us," Mercedes laughed. "We  _are_  freaks."

"But we're all freaks together," Finn added. He looked over at Kurt, standing beside him. The look of love on his face was unmistakable. "And we shouldn't have to hide it."

Kurt took Finn's arm, leaning against him as they all walked back to the choir room. "This," he said, touching Finn's dress. "This is… amazing. Who helped you?"

"Hey, you don't think I could have done it on my own?"

"No," Kurt said, smiling. Finn laughed.

"Okay, yeah. It was Angela."

"Angela," Kurt said. His eyes flew open. "Oh my god! Angela!" He rushed forward and grabbed Puck's hands. "Angela, Noah."

Mercedes eyed them curiously as she walked. "Who's Angela?"

"Um, somebody." Finn flicked a glance across at Puck, who looked startled. "What about her?"

"Jacob can't be there this summer. When you-know-who is doing his you-know-what." Kurt looked meaningfully at Puck, who nodded. "But maybe  _she_  could be."

"Angela? With — what about —?"

Mercedes scowled at them. "Seriously, the three of you sound like you're speaking in code. If you can't say something, just wait until after class to talk about it, okay?"

Kurt sighed. "All right. I'm sorry. We can talk about it in the car."

"You want me to come home with you?" Finn tried to say it casually, not like he was asking for too much, but Kurt nodded.

"I think we should go to the garage first," he said. "Let's talk to my dad there, on neutral territory."

Finn nodded, at once relieved and nervous. "I just don't know what I'm going to say."

"You can't tell him," Kurt said, his eyes serious. "About  _who_  you were talking about, in Sarah's room. I promised we wouldn't tell."

"I know. I promised him too."

Kurt blinked. "You — what? When?"

"Yesterday. I went over to his house. He's pissed." Finn straightened the front of his dress, thinking about Dave's comment about Blaine, the fierce, wounded expression on his face. "But it wasn't about what I thought it was about. I think I believe him when he says he's not going to fuck with you anymore."

Kurt looked at him. "You understand why I did what I did?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure," said Finn. "But I'm willing to trust you to handle it your way. You're totally capable of dealing with it on your own."

His face red, Kurt leaned on Finn's shoulder. Through this entire week of confusion and conflict, Kurt hadn't shown one moment of weakness, but right now, Finn felt like he might be helping hold Kurt up, for real.

"Thanks," he said.

"Anytime, baby," Finn whispered.

Mr. Schue gathered them all into the choir room, approaching Kurt. He looked genuinely concerned. "I didn't realize this thing with Azimio and Dave was still going on. After what happened earlier in the year…"

"No, no," Kurt assured him. "I think they heard the message loud and clear this time. They won't take on all of us at once. It's not going to be a problem anymore."

"Well, I'm glad you're okay. And Finn…" Mr. Schue turned to look him up and down, grinning. "This… statement… did it have the effect you were looking for?"

"I think so," said Finn. "I've got a couple apologies to make, but I can make this one first."

He looked over at Kurt. "I'm pretty sure you already did."

The way Kurt was smiling at him in front of all of Glee, Finn had to agree. He wished, not for the first time, he and Kurt didn't have to hide their relationship at school. Most of Glee club knew or had guessed, anyway, and they were all fine with it. Even Matt seemed glad to see them friendly again. He would have hugged Kurt, but instead he just nodded and smiled and said, "Okay."

Mr. Schue beckoned to everyone. "Let's get a picture of all of you together, folks. This is a moment to remember."

* * *

They stopped at the house before going to the garage, to drop off Puck and to allow Kurt to change out of his Gaga clothes. Finn had changed out of the red dress at school. Kurt offered to help him remove the stray bits of adhesive from his face, but Finn refused to come inside.

"I'm not going into the house until your dad says I can," he said from the car. "I want him to know I respect his rules, period."

Burt was waiting for them at the desk when Kurt pushed open the door to Hummel Tires and Lube. He nodded stiffly at Finn.

"Kurt told me you were coming."

"Yeah," said Finn.

Burt gave him a small smile. "Suppose we have some things to discuss."

Kurt put a hand on his dad's arm. "Can I show you a picture of what Finn did in Glee today first?"

He flicked through the photos on his phone, explaining the assignment and what everyone had done all week, including KISS and Puck's song about Beth. Finn watched Burt's face grow more and more pleased as he watched and listened. When Kurt said the words  _Finn said I was right,_  he turned to Finn and shook his hand.

"Now that's what I call being a man," he said. "Well, in a dress. You know what I mean."

"When I said those words, in Sarah's room," Finn said, "I want you to know I wasn't talking about Kurt. Or myself. I was talking about another guy's problem with that word, and himself. Kurt was trying to tell me he'd forgiven him, but I wasn't ready to hear that. I let my words get a little out of control. But I swear to you, I won't be calling anybody a fag, to their face or otherwise."

Burt nodded. "That was what Carole was trying to tell me. I'm sorry I jumped to conclusions, Finn. And, anyway, I should have known better than to make assumptions about you. I know your character, the kind of young man you are. You've proven yourself over and over. I just think you need to know, if we're going to be making a home together, that I won't tolerate those words, from anybody." He looked sternly at Kurt. "That goes for your friends, too."

"I'll make that clear," Kurt said. He leaned up and gave his dad a kiss on the cheek, startling him. "Thanks for standing up for me, anyway."

"So I'll see the two of you for dinner?" Burt asked. They nodded. He exhaled. "That's good. We've got something to talk about with all of you."

* * *

Puck dried his hands on the towel and came out of the kitchen to stand beside the couch. It wasn't a formal pose, but he waited a few feet away, wondering what he should do with his hands. "Dinner in fifteen."

"Thank you, Noah," Kurt said without looking up from his phone. He patted the couch absently, and Puck came around to sit beside him, sliding an arm around his shoulders. He wouldn't have sat, but it was nice to be invited, if that was what Kurt wanted.

"You know what he's gonna talk about?" he asked.

"What? Oh — no. I was assuming it was about our summer plans. Lima Community Theater is doing a show, I don't know what it is yet, but I think I'll audition." He set the phone in his lap. "Brad said he was going to talk to you about helping out with Cory and Duncan, for that month while he's gone?"

"Yeah, I think I'll do it. They're awesome, and if I can have my — if I can have Beth with me, I don't think it'd be impossible."

"Beth," said Kurt, smiling. "She has a name."

"Yeah." Puck felt inexplicably embarrassed by this. "Shelby says it's bad luck to name babies early."

"Well, I think we make our own luck, so it'll be all right." Kurt glanced back at his phone as it chimed, and laughed.

"Who's that?" Puck asked.

"It's… Dave."

Puck raised an eyebrow. "Dave  _Karofsky_  is texting you."

"I think he wanted to make sure I was okay, after today," Kurt said, a little defensively. He scrolled back in the conversation and held it out to Puck. "Here."

"I don't need to read your texts, Kurt," Puck said, but Kurt shook his head.

"No, I think it's important, actually. Finn says he trusts me to handle this, but I could use another perspective."

Puck couldn't help being touched by that. When  _Kurt_  wanted  _his_  perspective, it was probably important that he try to give it. He read the texts from Dave, and Kurt's responses:

_DK: Your boyfriend is completely nuts, you know that, right?_

_KH: That dress was inspired. Finn says it's the one Gaga wore to see the queen, so how appropriate is that?_

_DK: You actually made me snort my drink. What the hell was that about, anyway?_

_KH: It was mostly an apology for me._

_DK: Azimio was completely baffled. I think Finn broke him a little._

_KH: Forgive me if I have no sympathy for him, considering he was going to beat me up._

_DK: I wouldn't have let it go that far._

_KH: I think we've got a good chance of it not happening anymore. Don't worry about me; I can handle whatever happens._

_DK: You're the queen, after all._

Puck shook his head thoughtfully. "You're trying to guilt him into coming out or something? Dunno if that'll work. Karofsky's always kind of listened to himself and nobody else."

"Guilt is not my goal," said Kurt. "I'm trying to get him to trust me. He doesn't trust  _anybody_  right now, and that strikes me as a very dangerous position to be in. If he thinks he has nothing to lose, he could do anything."

"So you want to be his friend?" Puck made a face. "I wouldn't recommend it."

"Not friends. Just… a chance for him to see I'm less horrifying than what he thought I was." He took Puck's hand. "There was a time when he and Finn were friends. The two of you, too, right?"

"Yeah, when we were  _seven,"_ Puck scoffed. "Why would you want to bother now?"

"I don't want him to think being gay is the worst thing that could ever happen to him," said Kurt. He looked very determined. "Right now I think that might be how he feels. He's watching his boyfriend go off with another man. Talk about being powerless."

Puck wrinkled his brow. "His… boyfriend?"

Kurt paused, his mouth open. "Um. Maybe you didn't know about that?" His eyes flicked from side to side as he thought. "Shit. I kind of walked in on Dave, talking to someone. That's how I found out he was gay."

"He has a boyfriend?" Puck repeated.

"Not anymore." Kurt squeezed Puck's hand. "I'm just saying, I have a better understanding of what he's going through now, and why he might be acting the way he is."

"Acting  _out,_  you mean."

"No, no," Kurt moaned. "We are not going there. Let's let Dave handle his own discipline, all right?"

The timer chimed in the kitchen, and Puck stood, helping Kurt to his feet. Sarah appeared from the basement, wearing her Tweety Bird slippers and a paint-spattered shirt.

"Finn was helping me make something for the wall in my room," she said to Puck cheerfully. "You might call it abstract art? Whatever. Lemme wash my hands."

Carole and Burt emerged from upstairs and Finn from downstairs, carrying the piano bench for Sarah to sit on, and they all crowded in around the dining room table. Puck set the salmon in the middle of the table beside the tureen of rice, and served each plate before sitting down between Kurt and Sarah.

Carole looked around the table at everyone, nodding. "It's nice to have us all together," she said. "Even Adam was here this morning."

"He'll be going on tour this summer," Kurt said. He still didn't exactly look happy about it. "He wanted to make an effort to apologize for not being around. He's going to be extra busy, starting in June."

"Yeah, well, so are we," she said, nodding at Puck. He felt his cheeks going red, but he nodded. "You're going to have plenty to do, taking care of her."

"Noah has something to tell you about that." Kurt nudged him. "Go on."

"I — it's Shelby." He hadn't exactly planned on making an announcement about it, but he couldn't  _not_  obey Kurt's direction. He looked nervously at Burt, then Carole. "I asked her if she would help with Beth, and she said yes."

"Beth?" Burt broke out into a smile. "You chose a name?"

"Yeah." He scratched his ear. "Um, as in Elizabeth."

"Yeah, I got that. So, Shelby, helping with Beth? That sounds good. You'll need some help, with a newborn."

"More than just  _helping,_  isn't it?" Kurt looked meaningfully at Puck. He squirmed.

"We haven't figured that all out yet," he said. "I just know she's on board. That'll be… good. For everybody."

Finn hadn't said a word since they'd sat down, but he reached out across the table and touched Puck's hand. Puck took it, took a slow breath, and instantly felt more calm.

"We're going to have a lot to do this summer, too," said Carole. "We spoke with Sarah's advocate at social services, and we aren't going to be able to stay in this house. Not if we all want to be together. Which, I think, we've all decided we do." She made eye contact with all of them in turn, and each of them nodded. "So, plan B."

"Are we putting an offer on Matt's house?" Finn asked.

"No," said Burt. "We're building our own house."

Sarah's fork clattered to her plate. She stared at Burt, her eyes wide. "You mean  _my_  —?"

"I mean maybe not quite as extravagant as that," Burt said, holding up one hand.

"Burt," Carole said quietly, smiling. He sighed.

"All right," he said. "Yes. Your house. We're building your house."

Sarah raced around the table to tackle him in a hug, knocking over his water glass. Puck snuck into the kitchen and grabbed a towel, placing it over the spill without interrupting their moment. Finn and Kurt looked stunned.

"How can we afford that?" Kurt demanded. "You're not letting her use her inheritance money."

"I got an offer on our house," Carole said. "We're handling the finances. It'll be tight, building a new house, but it's not impractical, not with seven people in one place. Your father has already arranged a loan. Once we put this place on the market, we'll be fine."

Finn laughed in obvious disbelief. "You're really doing this?"

"No,  _we're_  really doing this." Burt looked hard at Finn. "That means we're _all_ going to have to make it work. No more moving in and out, no more running away. Got that?"

Sarah stood tall and straight, her face shining through her wet cheeks as she clutched Burt's arm. "I'm going to double-check everything," she declared. "You're getting another interview from me  _tomorrow._ "

Kurt was smiling. "Interview about what?"

"About what makes a home, for you. Tatenui's right; we're going to do this right." She was already pacing back and forth, her slippers flipping up into the air as she walked. "Noah, you're going to have to ask Brad and Laurie and Andi what a baby needs in her home…"

"Let me make it perfectly clear that there will be  _no_  horses in this plan," Burt insisted, but Sarah wasn't listening. He followed her into the kitchen. Carole turned to Kurt and gave him a hug.

"You talked him into this," he said.

She shook her head. "This was all him. I don't think I could have talked him  _out_  of it. Which I was not going to do."

Puck looked over the table, feeling mild regret for the salmon — it would be dried out by the time they all made it back to the table — and hugged Carole next. She laughed quietly as Finn took his turn.

"A house," he said. "Like, just for  _us._ "

"It's like how we made this family," Puck said. "Nobody else does it this way, but it works."

"That's right," Carole agreed. "It would have been a shame to try to squash our square family into a round-hole house. This way, at least any mistakes we make will be our own."

They stood there for a moment in the dining room, letting the reality of it sink in. Puck could hear Burt and Sarah arguing in the kitchen.

"You know what I'm going to miss the most?" Kurt pointed out the door. "The way I can walk north along Schoonover Park and get to the garage in less than ten minutes."

"Or to Britt's house in two?" Finn smiled.

Sarah emerged from the kitchen, still pacing, with Burt trying his best to keep up. "The location, though," she was saying. "We have to find the right spot. It can't be too close into town, but too far away would suck for you. And it has to be on this side of town, or else I'd have to change schools, and I totally won't do that to Frances, especially if —" She shook her head.

"Would you just  _stop?"_  Burt finally said, exasperated. She looked up at him in surprise. "I found some land. Not too far southeast along Bellefontaine. It's a half acre parcel, but there's more land for sale around it, and we could —  _someday_  — consider expanding.  _Someday."_  He sighed, doing his best to catch her as she launched herself at him again. "You're going to break my neck, kiddo."

"Ask him if he already put something down on the land," Carole murmured to Kurt, who covered his smile with one hand.

"There's, um, banana bread," Puck said hesitantly. "After dinner."

That was enough of a hint for them to sit down and finish eating. He was starting to feel like the meal was going to be a total wash, but nobody said one word about the fish being too dry, and it didn't turn out to be all that bad after all. He listened with half an ear to Sarah and Burt arguing about building materials while Finn ate the last two pieces of salmon, then got up to clear their empty plates and put the tea kettle on the stove.

"Hey." Puck turned around from stacking dishes at the sink to see Finn in the doorway, watching him. "You're doing great. I mean… the dinner, it was awesome, but I'm talking about the, um. The service."

The words made him flush, especially coming from Finn. "Thank you, sir."

He watched the smile spread on Finn's face, and Finn's own pink cheeks. "What Kurt said today, about Adam needing that. Needing somebody like Angela. You think he's right?"

"Yeah." He filled the kettle and placed it on the rear burner. "Mostly because Jacob's not going to be with him this summer. That's going to suck. He'll have Tommy, but Tommy can still hardly tolerate Adam talking about me. Don't ask, I have my own theories, but whatever. Adam's going to be fucking stressed out."

Finn nodded. "I was just thinking, I can suggest it to Carl. But I wanted to make sure you didn't… that you wouldn't resent it."

"Resent it?" Puck echoed, confused.

He shrugged. "If Angela… if she got to be that, for him. Instead of you."

The question hit him in an unexpectedly sore place, and he stayed busy at the stove for a couple moments while he got his feelings under control. Before he could turn around and face Finn again, Finn was  _there,_  right behind him, and his hands were on Puck's shoulders, and he was saying, softly, "Hey," and Puck was crumbling, letting Finn hold him up.

"Fuck," he whispered, wiping his eyes with his bare arm.

"You just said goodbye to him this morning," Finn said. "Don't expect it's going to be easy to go back to not having him here."

Puck nodded into Finn's shoulder, feeling his gentle sigh, and breathing with him through the exhale.

"I think," Puck said, swallowing, "I think part of why he's freaking out is because he can't have what he wants. With me and Kurt. And this… this isn't going to be enough for him, eventually. He's gonna keep wanting stuff he can't have."

"Yeah," said Finn with feeling. "I really get how that is."

"So I guess I'm just assuming he'll keep showing up like this when he needs us, until someday, he'll be sick of it. And that'll be the end."

Finn nodded, petting the back of his head. "And what about you? What do you want?"

Puck looked up at him. "I think I know the answer," he said. "If I could… I want to talk to you and Kurt about it, together. Tonight." He licked his lips. "While I'm wearing my collar. Please."

He felt Finn relax at that. "Yeah. You can definitely have that."

Finn kissed him briefly and left him to make tea. By the time Puck returned to the table with the banana bread, he'd mostly composed himself. Kurt didn't do more than touch his leg once under the table, but he still felt better.

"I have friends in construction," Burt was saying. "I can barter for labor, and get materials wholesale through business connections. If we can get the permits to be on site, I'm pretty sure it would be possible to do some of the labor ourselves. Finn, you can help this summer."

"We all can," said Finn, while Kurt nodded. He cut a big slab of banana bread, passing the plate to Carole.

"It's not much of a slope, but we could excavate and give it enough grade that the lower level could have daylight windows…"

"Can we call Mr. Preston tomorrow?" Sarah asked, bouncing on her chair. "The plans are ready to go, I swear, all of his junior architects vetted them."

It still felt like a dream, listening to his sister talk to Burt about the house, with Finn and Kurt both there at the table together. It was even more unreal to think that Adam had been sitting exactly there that morning, eating scrambled eggs Puck had made for him.

He didn't realize how close he was to losing it until Finn said calmly, "Sarah, can you finish the dishes tonight? There's something Puck needs to do before bed."

"No problem," she said immediately, hopping up from the table. Burt and Carole pointedly ignored them, but Kurt rose with Puck, watching him closely.

Finn jerked his head at the hallway. "Go on," he murmured to Puck, too quietly for anyone else to hear. "On Kurt's bed. Keep your shorts and shirt on. I'll bring the collar."

"Yes sir," he replied immediately, and headed for the stairs.

Things got hazy once he closed the door to Kurt's room. He wasn't sure how long it took for Finn and Kurt to arrive, but at some point he realized he wasn't alone. He felt a gentle hand on his back as he knelt, and fingers lifting his chin, buckling the leather around his neck. He let out a long, slow sigh. The bed dipped as two bodies joined him, one on either side, warm and supportive.

"All right," said Kurt. "What's all this about? What do you need?"

"This," said Puck. He turned his head, resting his cheek on Kurt's leg beside him. "I need this. What you're letting me do upstairs, that's —"

Kurt chuckled. "What we're  _letting_  you do?"

"Well, okay, ordering me to do, but… it's what I want, right? Not much of a sacrifice. But I was saying, it's different. I need that, but… I also need  _this._ A place where I can let go. With you."

"You can have that, Noah," Kurt promised. "If we build this house, you'll have all the room you need."

"It's not the  _space._ It's the freedom. I'm just saying, that's why I asked Shelby to be part of this. Because I think — no, I  _know_  — sometimes I'm going to need to know that I don't have to be in charge of anything or anybody. That I can just do or say or be anything, until I'm done."

Finn leaned in close, brushing Puck's ear with his lips. "Yeah, that's okay. You can do that."

He felt his own heartbeat thudding against in his neck, his knees pressed to his chest. "Thank you. And — I'm just gonna say it all, okay, because if I don't I'm going to freak out later — I have to stop lying. At least in my own house, where I'm… like this. I told Shelby everything, because — because before you came along, Kurt, lying was all I ever did with  _everyone,_  other than Finn. I don't want to be that guy anymore, and if I have to try to figure out which lies are okay and which ones aren't, I'm gonna get stuck in a bad place again. I know it."

"It's okay," Kurt soothed. He rested his hand on Puck's back while Finn looped a finger through the ring in his collar and gave it a gentle tug. It helped, and Puck could breathe a little easier.

"Finn," he said. "Can you — what about Rachel? Can she know everything?"

Finn sighed as he thought. "There's no way she can know about Carl, and I'm thinking not Adam either. But the rest… maybe? She knows a lot of it already. I  _want_  to trust her not to tell anybody the rest."

He turned his head far enough to one side that he could look at Kurt out of the corner of his eye. "What about Dave?"

"Dave?" Kurt was clearly startled, and a little nervous.

"If your game is to get him to trust you, you're gonna end up telling him stuff. I don't want to wonder what he knows. We've got to stop that hiding shit."

Kurt nodded slowly. "I'm not sure yet how much I trust him, either. But I'll consider it."

"Okay. Any other secrets we should know about? Either of you? You know I'm not much for begging, but this is totally me, doing that. Begging you to tell me."

"Patrick," said Finn. "He's… he's not ready for anybody else to know about what he does. I'm sorry, but he asked, specifically."

"That's different." Puck rolled over onto his back, looking up at both of them. "I don't know him. It's not like he's coming over here to hang out, where I'm gonna have to talk to him. Maybe he'll tell you when he's ready. I'm just… I can't deal with all the lies, not if I'm going to let go like this."

"Kid-free subspace, check." Finn placed a hand on Puck's chest, stroking the tattoo over his heart. "And keeping it honest. We can do that."

They gathered him up, holding him in both of their arms, until he was loose and relaxed enough to stop feeling scared. Once he did that, it was impossible not to want things. He began rutting against the bed, Finn's leg, anything that was handy. Neither Finn nor Kurt seemed to mind.

"We're going to take care of you, Noah," Kurt murmured, his hand sliding into his shorts to grip him, giving him just enough friction. "Finn and I, you belong to us. You're ours. We're going to make sure you get what you need. You were such a good boy, asking for it tonight."

Finn didn't say much, but he made some pretty awesome noises of approval, holding Puck's arms behind his back while Kurt knelt between his legs. Puck let it all happen, let himself fall into the trust. There was no question in his mind they would be there to hold him.

_Home,_ he thought, and closed his eyes.  _This is what it feels like._

* * *

 [ _http://youtu.be/Vtp-p7qFI2I_](http://youtu.be/Vtp-p7qFI2I)

_Be still and know that I'm with you_   
_Be still and know that I am here_   
_Be still and know that I'm with you_   
_Be still, be still, and know_   
  
_When darkness comes upon you_   
_And covers you with fear and shame_   
_Be still and know that I'm with you_   
_And I will say your name_   
  
_If terror falls upon your bed_   
_And sleep no longer comes_   
_Remember all the words I said_   
_Be still, be still, and know_   
  
_And when you go through the valley_   
_And the shadow comes down from the hill_   
_If morning never comes to be_   
_Be still, be still, be still_   
  
_If you forget the way to go_   
_And lose where you came from_   
_If no one is standing beside you_   
_Be still and know I am_   
  
_Be still and know that I'm with you_   
_Be still and know I am_

_\- The Fray, "Be Still"_


End file.
